


Harriet Potter and the Assembling of Heroes

by ItCouldAllBeForNothingTommorow



Series: Harriet Potter and the Meddling of The Fates [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Absentee Father Loki, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asgardian Harry Potter, Canon Divergence - Avengers (2012), Cedric Diggory Lives, Demigod Harry Potter, Dobby (Harry Potter) Lives, Enemies to Allies, Families of Choice, Female Harry Potter, Half Human Harry Potter, Harry Potter is Loki (Marvel)'s Child, James is not Harry's father, Jotunn | Frost Giant Harry Potter, Loki gets redeemed, Loki is half Jotunn and Half Asgardian, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Multi, Non-Human Harry Potter, Not So Evil Voldemort (Harry Potter), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pairings not yet decided, Rating May Change, Secret Identity, Seer Harry Potter, Sirius Black Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2019-10-17 23:04:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 91,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17569607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItCouldAllBeForNothingTommorow/pseuds/ItCouldAllBeForNothingTommorow
Summary: It is May 2012.  The Fates have spent the interim years working to move Harriet into a position of power in preparation for what is to come.  An army stands ready to invade Earth with their General come to open the way but Harriet is a woman grown and a witch in her prime.  With allies old and new at her side Harriet will stand against any threat.tl;dr It is May 2012 and Loki has is coming to Earth for the tesseract and to conquer but SHIELD and the Avengers wouldn’t be standing alone against this threat.  Harriet, ‘John’, and their allies will not sit back and allow their planet to be invaded unchallenged.





	1. ‘Lauren Potter’, Lily Evans, and their child

Travel to Midgard was banned to all Asgardians outside of official work for the King. When Loki and Thor were taught this lesson the young boys had two very different reaction. Thor grumbled but ultimately accepted whereas Loki became attached to the idea that one day, despite the rules, he would go and see Midgard for himself.

Many liked to think that Thor thrived for challenges. After all he was always the one ready to charge off where Loki advised him to take caution. Despite what public opinion had to say Loki was as much attracted to a challenge as his brother. The difference between them was that Thor relished them for winnings which would allow him to boast while Loki was drawn to challenges he needed to be cared out in secret or with cunning.

At only three hundred years of age he discovered the secret of the portals which connected Asgard to the other eight of the nine realms. Finding them set him free to explore the universe as he wished. He thrilled in knowing he went where he wished with none the wiser. That his action were unaccounted for made his freedom all the sweeter.

Midgard was just as undeveloped as his studies had led him to believe but there was something to spending time among people who valued Loki’s skill with magic. Some of the simplest tricks would leave those he met in awe. Of course had to reserve himself from showing the true berth of his skill. He couldn’t be too showy for risk of drawing attention which may reveal his true identity. Still, it was nice to be appreciated for his skill. It helped Loki to decompress when his studiousness and practice of the magical arts drew sneers, jests, and judgment from the ignorant warriors of Asgard.

Unfortunately the enacting of the Statue of Secrecy made his visits less enjoyable. He already had to hold himself back on Midgard in order to appear to be a mortal wizard. He did not relish having to walk about pretending to be a mundane human. Being shackled in this way made Midgard loose some of its shine for Loki. Fortunately the rest of the realms were providing ample distraction as at over a thousand years of age Thor and Loki were permitted to leave Asgard with the Allfather’s consent on missions for the Crown and adventures with which to gain experience and burn through some of the ‘recklessness of youth’ which kept seeing the two of them getting into trouble. Loki still tried to stop in on Midgard from time to time. Every decade or so, though occasionally it stretched out to twenty years of more. That is until the Migardian ‘muggles’ started inventing and progressing at surprising speeds. It seemed they were finally making moves towards advancement and Loki found himself visiting more often to witness this evolution for himself.

As with many cultures war helped to encourage the muggles innovation. Their second ‘World War’ caused some interesting developments indeed. The majority of the magical world was focused on their latest Dark Lord, one Gellert Grindelwald. Loki was unimpressed with the wizard but the ‘Red Skull’ personally caught his attention and that of some of the more intelligent magicals who had the presence of mind to see a threat and opportunity when one appeared. They kept close to Dr. Abraham Erskine while Loki was forced to keep his distance. He knew that many out in the stars and the other realms turned their eye to such drama’s for entertainment and escape from their own troubles much as he experienced through his visits. It would not do for any of their viewers to become aware of him because he indulged his curiosity. He made a point of being occupied on a quest with Thor, his Warriors Three, and the Lady Sif so as to avoid the temptation the Doctor next attempt at a super solider provided.

After the loss of the Captain and the Skull the muggles actions continued to hold appeal to Loki’s interests. The same could not be said for Midgard’s magicals who’s culture and advancement had grown all but stagnant. Contrasting them with the potential their muggle counter parts were proving humans had was depressing. It became clear to Loki that when a time of conflict came between these two the magicals would loose. Rather than driving Loki away he found himself more drawn to Midgard for it. There was something in saying he took an interest before the rest of the universe grew its awareness of this planet and its people. Loki reveled in looking for the hidden gems of experience and knowledge that Midgard had to offer before they were lost to the ever turning wheels of time. 

By the Midgardian calendar the year was 1979 when Loki came across one such gem who changed his destiny.

Another war was taking place on Midgard though this was hardly surprising given how often they came into conflict with each other. This particular civil war was taking place between witches and wizards. Much the same as with the rhetoric of Grindelwald there was a new Lord proclaiming the superiority of magicals. Specifically the superiority of ’pure’ blood which was not tainted with muggle ancestry. It was an ignorant ideology but one with fervent followers. 

Pressures had been quietly building towards this war for decades with actual declarations only coming some nine years prior. The number of casualties had mounted into the hundreds with magical and muggle blood alike being spilled. Entire families had been pruned to a few scant surviving branches if the tree still stood at all. With these cullings a flood of ancient artifacts and family heirlooms had entered the market. Among them were pieces of Midgard’s magical history and innovation that interested Loki greatly. The tensions in the Wizarding world did not.

After finishing a deal in Knockturn Alley Loki made for the Leaky Cauldron to head out into Muggle London where he intended to find himself a drink and a meal before returning home to Asgard. The weather was cold which Loki did not mind but as rain began to fall he was forced to move inside or be drenched. Resenting that he could not simply use magic to protect himself he moved into the nearest shelter which proved to be pub. It would not have been his first choice but it was better than the kind his brother and comrades usually favored. Moving towards the bar he inspected the premise to see if there was anything interesting to be found. His attention was captured by a head of brilliant red hair belonging to a woman with a wand in a holster hidden under her right sleeve.

Her name was Lily Evans. She had come to this place in the hope of drinking away her troubles without running into any friends or enemies. She was not enthusiastic to have another magical present but she begrudgingly allowed Loki to buy her a drink. He won her over with his charm and wit as she held his intention for the same reasons. Beauty could be found easily but Lily had more than beauty. She had a mind and an energy to her spirit that drew Loki in. 

While he regularly broke Asgardian law by coming to Earth Loki had never taken a lover there. Asgardians did not approve of taking lovers from other races with Odin having made very clear on his feelings on the matter and his mother never contradicting them. Loki had seen the wisdom in the thought of staying segregated from mortals at least. Why grow attached to people who would die after perhaps only a century if you were lucky? But there was something about Lily that made Loki forget such concerns. He asked to share his night with her and after that night was spent he asked if they could meet again.

Their affair lasted a mere nine months but for that time Loki found himself completely enamored with Lily. He thought about her to the point of distraction. It did not go unnoticed by others that he was besotted and regularly making excuses before running off to where he would not say. That others had noticed worried him and yet he increasingly journey to Midgard in search of Lily’s company.

He knew that since their first night together she had married. She never spoke of another but unlike Thor Loki did not need to be told things to see the truth. The fact that she was not his but another's caused some jealousy in Loki which he refused to acknowledge. He told himself that it was for the best as he could not claim her for himself. He deluded himself that he could forever be content so long as she still answered his calls. He never asked her about her spouse. He never gave a sign that he even suspected Lily was anything but unattached. In their times together they talked about many things but not that. They spoke of their families and friends, dreams and resentments, their battles and the war, but never that. Loki in turn never shared with her his true origins and what truths he did share were altered to fit his ruse of being a pure blood from America.

It was the start of December of that same year when Loki came to Midgard expecting to meet with Lily as they always did. To share a meal in a fine restaurant in a muggle hotel before retiring to a room where they could share more private moments. But when he sent his invitation Lily denied him and asked he not contact her again.

Concerned and worried that perhaps she was acting under duress Loki used a strand of Lily’s hair -one of several he had saved- to track her down.

He found her in a village with her husband breaking their fast at their kitchen table. He was surprised to see just how alike he and the man were to each other in look but the similarities between he and Loki’s Potter guise was uncanny. The logical conclusion to Loki’s mind was that her husband was indeed a genuine Potter or at least shared blood with them.

Seeing the seemingly happy young couple together might have been enough to cause Loki to leave and see to his wounds without confronting Lily had it not been for the stress he could see in his lover’s face and baring when she believed no one to be watching. That stress fed his concern and worry. He could not bring himself to leave without answers.

After finding a place for his body to rest Loki cast his astral self out into the world. He traveled undetected into Lily’s home. Despite the pain it caused him he forced himself to inspect the house and eavesdrop on the conversation of its occupants. He learned that the husband was indeed a Potter. In fact the last of the Potters on these shores. He was also hopelessly in love with Lily. As much as he might wish to deny it Loki could see this clearly. Just as he could see that Lily did indeed love her husband in return even if her eyes did not hold the same intense devotion this James. But surely this love was not something new. Loki did not believe it was love that had caused Lily to so abruptly end of their relationship. Surely she had loved her husband for some time, yet she had still willingly proceeded in their affair. There was something new motivating her and Loki would not leave until he understood it.

As he approached Lily he used his magic to check that she was well and acting under her own authority.

What he sensed from her shocked him into retreating back to his body.

Lily was pregnant. Shocking in itself, but given the way his magic had lashed against his control, trying to break free to move to protect the child, Loki could only assume it was his. That its development was in line with his last visit supported this assumption. Loki did not know what to think of it and not knowing what to think he chose not to think at all until he could discuss the matter with Lily.

Some hours later the husband left with some of his friends. Lily saw them off with a smile which fell the moment they were gone. Looking weary she headed to the garden where she sat herself on a bench. Staring out blindly at the world around her one hand rested against her stomach while her other fidgeted with her wedding ring.

Revealing himself to her eye Loki started up the garden path.

Lily looked surprised to see a visitor than scared at the sight of him before her expression became cold. Crossing her arms she looked at him not as a lover but as an advisory. 

Without conscious though Loki’s face adapted to match.

When he came to a stop an arms length from her the two stared each other down with Lily’s gaze challenging him to dare speak while Loki’s looked down on her for not daring to speak herself.

With his patience at an end Loki broke the silence between them. “You’re pregnant.”

He took some small pleasure that his proclamation caused Lily’s breath to catch in her throat.

Looking away guiltily her eyes stared unseeingly past him as she nodded.

“It is mine.”

With her eyes tearing Lily shook her head in denial of what he knew to be true.

“I’m sorry,” she said with her voice full of regret while cold anger and pain pierced through Loki’s core. 

Had Lily been looking at his face the fury she saw would have terrified her into silence but as she could not bring herself to look she was able to say her piece.

“I love my husband. I love him and this baby… I need it to be his. No matter how it came about, I want it to be his.” Closing her eyes as she waited for Loki to respond. 

She looked braced for an attack and part of Loki wanted to meet her expectations.

How dare she! How could she think he would allow this? He may have been willing to accept that Lily was not his to lay claim on but this was his child. He had every right to it and yet she thought to never give him the chance to claim it. Rather than telling him she’d cut ties, leaving it to him to hunt her down and discover the truth for himself. She intended to give his child, his first born to another man! Why should the one lucky enough to already have Lily’s hand and heart have his child as well?

Loki was ready to tell her all of this. He was ready to stake his claim and go to war if she forced him. Had it been Thor in his place the words would have left his lips before the more practical part of him could speak up. But Loki was not Thor and as such his practical nature prevailed, rising up in time before his temper led him to charge forwards.

For all that Loki may want some claim on this child what kind claim could he truly maintain? Loki Odinson had not fathered this child. Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief had never set foot on Midgard for to do so would be a direct violation of his Father’s Kingly Edicts. Loki Odinson could have no child by a mortal woman for such a match and such an heir would never be accepted by his King nor their people. No, this child was no child of Loki Odinson. This was the child of Lauren Potter, an illusion and a falsehood that was nothing but smoke and lies. What kind of father could such a fiction be? How much of a role could he have in his child’s life without putting them both in danger of discovery?

Taking a deep breath Loki forced himself to act above his anger.

Sitting down on the bench besides Lily he took her hand in his. 

“Whatever claim I have on this child I hand into your care,” he said with weight to his words. Guided by his intent his magic responded causing Lily to gasp as she felt the impact of what he was doing. “I renounce my rights as Father, that you their mother may give them to the one of you're choosing. I do this of my own free will with no ill feeling to the child. My blessing I give onto it with every desire that it should be born healthy and strong, to grow to happy and wise.”

Wrapping around the child his magic gave it would it could while covering whatever connection existed between the two of them. The connection could not be erased or severed entirely but this forfeiting would dampen it, allowing for other magical bonds to take its place.

“Thank you,” Lily told him sincerely but Loki was in no mood to accept her gratitude. 

Releasing her hand he told her, “Goodbye Lily,” before vanishing from sight.

He thought to return to Asgard. He thought to hold off visiting Midgard again for perhaps a decade. He thought he with his silver tongue could talk himself out of grieving. The master of deception managed to deceive himself for only eight months before the unaddressed pain and longing in his heart became to much to bare. He found himself back outside Lily’s home with a bouquet of flowers in hand and a present secreted in his pocket. A present he never did give over.

After checking that the husband was not in residence Loki went to the front door to knock. He knew not what reception he would receive but the relieved smile on Lily’s face when she answered was better than he’d hoped for. His attention however was quickly drawn away from her smile to her heavily pregnant stomach. On Asgard pregnancies were rare as people had such long lives to go about such things but being a traveled man Loki was not unfamiliar with the sight. However seeing Lily so changed with the evidence of their child when in his mind she should still be as he last saw her was jarring.

“Are those for me,” Lily asked, amused to see him so wrong footed.

However that was the only gentle teasing she had for him. The humor and familiarity they had previously held in their relationship was gone. Knowing how delicate their situation was she accepted his flowers before inviting him into her home. She offered him tea and a chance for them to speak but made it clear that should her husband arrive home early she would need him to leave immediately.

“He knows about us then.”

“Yes,” Lily admitted with a weight of guilt. “I confessed when I told him about the pregnancy. When I first realized I hadn’t planned to. I thought about keeping it a secret, but after our talk, when you had the strength to do what you did, I decided I needed to have the strength to do right by James as well.”

Loki fought not to grimace. “How did he take it.”

For a few seconds Lily did not answer but when she did it was little more than a whisper. “Better than I deserved,” she said and left the matter at that.

From their they talked about trivial things. Lily’s pregnancy symptoms, baby proofing the house, and of course the war which brought a shadow to Lily’s face along with some determination.

“I didn’t think I would be seeing you again,” she said leadingly as she took another sip of tea.

“You don’t seem upset to have been wrong,” Loki replied with a slight coolness to his tone.

Lily shrugged. “I didn’t think you would come back. That goodbye of yours seemed rather final and I’d asked you not to, but it didn’t take long for me to hope you would reach out again.”

“Please tell me you are not about to say something about still being friends,” Loki sneered making his distaste for the sentiment clear.

“No, I didn’t want you coming back for my sake,” Lily denied. Placing her hand over her stomach she held his eye. “But for hers.” 

Loki tried not to visibly react. “It is to be a girl then,” he asked sipping his tea.

Lily nodded. “Harriet Fearn Potter.”

A sharp pain coursed through Loki’s chest at the name. Fearn was a name that in truth held no sentiment for Loki but it was name he given for his mother when telling Lily about his family.

“Why,” he asked her with his pain on display.

Looking into his eyes Lily reached out for his hand. “Because I want you to have a connection to my child even if you won’t be her father.”

Loki brought his other hand to cover theirs. “I don’t understand,” he confessed. The anger and pain in his tone made it clear he wanted her to explain.

“Plant names. Girls in my family are always named after plants, do you remember my telling you that?”

Loki nodded. “Petunia for your sister, Ivy for your mother, Daisy for her sister who died, and Lily for you with more going back through the generations.”

Lily smiled, touched. “James didn’t remember Daisy. I told him about her, but he forgot. He remembered the tradition though. He didn’t question me when I said we should name the baby Harriet if it was a girl. We’d already decided on Harry for a boy. It’s a family name and similar to Henry, James’ grandfather which makes him happy. I wanted it to help show that this was his child. I wanted James to feel that sense of connection every time he hears the name. He thinks I’m claiming her middle name to carry on my own family tradition but I’m not. I’m naming her Fearn in the hopes that it will help to keep you connected to her even.”

“But why,” Loki demanded angrily.

Lily was unaffected by his aggression. “Because we are in a time of war and this little girl is going to need every advantage she can get. You said when you gave up your rights that you wished her well. You gave her your blessing but I’m hoping you will be willing to give her something more.”

Loki’s nostrils flared. Of course this wasn’t some small apology on Lily’s part. Of course this wasn’t about him or them or how this child came about. This was a ploy for Lily to get something from him. 

Ripping his hands free he settled back in his chair feeling that in manipulation he held the high ground.

“What do you want from me Lilly?”

“A promise,” she answered without hesitating. Fear fed the passion in her voice as she explained, “You and James are family. Distant though you may be you are both Potters. If anything ever happens to us I want you to claim Harriet as kin and take her back with you too America. With no Potter’s left you shouldn’t have to reveal that you're her father but if you must you must. If you do not wish to raise her as your own I will not ask it of you. I only ask that you see her away to safety to be raised by another Potter away from this war with the protection of the numbers and influence the family hold overseas.”

“If you are so concerned why not flea yourself? Surely no one would blame you for putting your duties as parents ahead of other things,” Loki challenged.

With some resentment she confessed, “There are those that would not have it in them to understand but we need them as much as we need anyone else who we can call on for the Dark Lord has targeted us. We could leave, but he would most likely follow. We have allies here. And with the risk travel would entail it is simply not worth it. If we could take a portkey it would be one thing-”

Loki nodded his understanding. Witches and Wizards could not use their normal means of magical transport with children until they were some years old. The effects on the child’s developing magic and body could be devastating and as such they were only to be used in dire circumstances. The same went for pregnant women. If Lily were to leave they would have to travel by less than instant means which would leave them open to attack.

“Would you be willing,” Lily asked him. “If the worse happens to James and I, would you see Harriet to America?”

Of course Loki agreed. Whether he would keep that promise and involve himself or not he cared not to contemplate as he didn’t care to think about a future where Lily would not be alive to look after the child for herself, but to share any doubts with Lily would only cause her to worry and Loki had no intention of doing that.

With the promise given Lily became awkward in having him there. She tried not to show it and to remain cordial but Loki he could see she was concerned to have her former lover in her home with her husband expected back shortly. That concern made Loki’s resentment and jealousy rear up inside him. Any desire he might have had to stay died. He said his goodbyes to Lily and promptly made to return home to Asgard.

Thor and his friends were as always eager for a spar and Loki had many feelings he wished to beat out onto others.

***

Loki made a point of continuing his visits to Midgard after that. He wanted to prove to himself that he was not so affected, that he could visit and do business as he had always done without giving into the temptation to check in on Lily or the child.

On the first of November 1981 he found himself in magical Germany enjoying a day in one of their magical villages. It was a place where witches and wizards had lived and thrived for centuries. No muggle had been within fifty miles of the land in all that time. This was a place where people were free to use magic as they like and embrace their culture to its fullest. All things Loki greatly appreciated.

He had been in the stationary shop looking at the Quill collection on offer when the owners son, a boy in his teens came rushing into the shop.

“Father. Father. News from England,” he said excitedly as he waved the paper around.

“And what news do they bring? More raids that do nothing to end the war or was it another victory for their Dark Lord,” the shop keep asked dourly.

“The Dark Lord is dead,” the youth exclaimed, proud to be able to shock his father.

“Dead,” the shop keep repeated.

The boy nodded.

Before the shop keeper could reach for the paper himself Loki asked, “May I see that?”

The boy startled having not released they had any customers. Looking abashed he handed the paper over to Loki.

“It’s true sir. The Lord Voldemort is dead.”

Loki didn’t hear what he said however. When he set his eyes to the paper they were drawn to a familiar name. Potter.

The Potters were killed the line said. 

He could not process anything more. He could not bring his eyes to move away from that line to see what else the article had to say.

Dropping the offending paper to the floor Loki disregarded all care for politeness or need to keep from drawing attention to himself. He disappeared on the spot despite the jinx and charms on the shop which should have kept him from being able to do so by Wizarding means. He moved with speed for Lily’s home only to arrive and find it in ruin. A crowd of dozens filled the street, gathered most densely around the house. Their voices were a cacophony of noise. Some where crying in grief while others cried with relief. Some souls were even celebrating. With sadistic pleasure they poured out glasses of cheer and toasted in the direction of house to the death of the Dark Lord. 

A barrier had been set up to hold back the masses but it did nothing to stop Loki. Leaving his body behind he sent his astral self into the house. The damage to the outside was little compared to the damage within. There had been a fight here. The residual magic lingered to speak of if. Most especially what lingered was the death magic. Evidence of a killing curse having successfully enacted its self on a soul. But only one soul and despite the ridiculousness of it, that gave Loki hope. As he moved up the stairs he was wanted to find that there had only been one death in this house, that somewhere Lily and Harriet were safe, but that is not what he found.

In the nursery where the bulk of the damage had been done to the house there was evidence of two more deaths. Two successful killing curses as well as the destruction of a soul.

Falling to his knees Loki’s astral form returned to his body.

His love was dead. Their daughter was dead.

His eyes were drawn to the drinking merrymakers as pure hatred welled up in his soul. A knife appeared in his hand without his having to choose to summon it. He wanted to kill them. He could not kill the man who had taken from him so he wanted settle for these souls who would rejoice with no respect for the deaths of those he loved.

From where they watched the Fates felt some remorse for his suffering. When they had arranged for Loki and Lily to meet they knew the odds were against it ending in happiness, when they delivered the prophecy through Trelawney they knew it would likely lead to death, and now with that blessings their Mistress had already given out they worked to weaving a destiny for Loki were left Midgard without knowing the true fate of his daughter. He would go on to live the coming years believing she was dead. If he shared his pain and allowed himself to fully grieve it would become a scar which made him a better man. But the odds were no more in favor of his doing this than they had been that he and Lily could have ended up happily together.

When Loki left Midgard he refused to let himself grieve. He lived in denial, not acknowledging his feeling. He left the wound untended allowing it to fester and infect his soul as the years past, hiding away his pain with illusions and deception as he did all other things he did not wish to be known. He suffered alone with none but himself aware of his loss.


	2. The Start Of a Very Long May Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreaming of what’s to come and waking up to face the day in May 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!Announcement about future updates!!!!  
> Hello everyone. This is a warning about future updates. As those of you who have read past author’s notes will know I suffer from several health issues both physical and mental. Writing is something I do to stay sane but how well I do it and how often gets heavily affected by these health issues. When extra things get in the way I can become severely inhibited. Coming up over this next week and continuing for I have no idea how long it might take there is going to be a lot of stress and uncertainty entering my life which will be causing much anxiety and other issues. I don’t know if this will affect how often I update or the quality of my writing. Sometimes stress makes me a better writer. Sometimes it ruins me. I wanted to post this warning so you would know this in case updates end up taking a while or if there is a noticeable change to the amount of mistakes you might understand why. This story is not being abandoned. It helps me stay sane. There is just going to be a lot of challenges and stress charging into take up what energy I have. If updates take some time I hope you will be patient and stick with me. If you’re willing to point out mistakes and be a beta reader while you read that would help. If it takes a while for me to get back to comments know it isn’t personal and I will get back to them when I can. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support and I hope you like the latest chapter.

Above an endless expanse of golden overcast filled the sky. Rainbow particles of light danced among the cloud cover before floating down, transfiguring into glittering snowflakes along the way which joined the layer of snow which covered everything as far as the eye could see. All was white with its dressing but for a clustered of twinkling gold in the distance, scattered about on the horizon.

Taking in the familiar scene Harriet cursed, “Bugger.”

“Language.”

Where there had only be empty air Harriet turned to find Voldemort in his human form with Nagini draped over her shoulders, standing besides her. As she had been before he arrive Voldemort stared off at the monument to Potters past in the distance with a displeased frown on his face.

 

Turning back to the twinkling gold of the statues in the distance Harriet resigned herself to the inevitable. “Shall we?”

Voldemort’s frown deepened. “Best to get it over with,” he agreed dispassionately.

Taking a step forward the pair lunched themselves into the air, taking flight with a spell of Voldemort’s creation. Taking to the skies they were able to clear the distance to the graveyard in little time and continue on to their destination. Down bellow the status looked up as they flew over head. A few like Harriet’s parents and grandparents waved at them as they passed.

Landing next to the base Harriet and Voldemort’s statues had come to share. Together they looked off at the vast expanse before them that appeared to be empty. They knew better though. Since she was fifteen Harriet had been returning to this dreamscape time and time again as her subconscious used it as a familiar formula to deliver her information, usually when something was being kept from her. Always there was something hidden but unseen in the expanse ahead.

Letting her head drop into her hand Harriet rubbed at her forehead. These dreams were often an effort in frustration with her gift which was meant to give her answers was being what seemed purposely vague.

Getting down off the base Harriet moved ahead to where she expected the first hidden statue to be. She could not see it or sense it but after so many dreams where it stood in the same place she knew exactly how many steps it took to get from the base to get where she needed to be.

Crouching down she reached under the snow in search of the feel of fabric and there it was, precisely where she expected it to be. Grabbing hold she rose to her feet. As she made to stand she allowed her body to transform shedding her human skin for that of a Jotunn. Unlike Tom she gained no height from the transition but it did come with added strength. Strength which helped her to pull the invisibility covering away to reveal the secret it covered. The result was as familiar as it was vexing.

Standing atop a golden base was a figure carved of ice and gold hued uru   
accented with touches of genuine gold. A difference Harriet only knew from having tested the statue previously. The man that was depicted before her was tall but a few inches short of the heights of herself or Voldemort. His build carried a good deal of muscle but the cut and styling of his armor made him look deceptively thin. His head which was formed of ice was covered by thin layer of gold. Like a mask the metal presented one face while concealing the true face. The golden face was one with Potter features and lifeless eyes. This was the face Harriet’s mother knew as Lauren Potter. This was Harriet’s sire, a man who despite her years of seeking answers Harriet knew very little about.

Harriet and Voldemort had been quietly trying to discover what they could about her biological father since learning of his existence. Over the course of their investigation they quickly realized that whoever he was “Lauren Potter” was not his real name. They had done tests using several American Potters and not once had they gotten a positive result showing Harriet was related to them. Of course this didn’t prove that the man wasn’t a Potter. He could have been from a branch they couldn’t sample from. James had been adopted. Her sire could have been as well. They didn’t want to make assumptions that might lead them down the wrong path. However more and more Harriet’s dreams and viewings of the past led them to believe that her sire was not a Potter, not even human. That uru, a metal not native to earth was in his statue had been the first hint to draw their search beyond earth.

The golden base on which her sire stood was built of a multitude of items, repeated and fit together like puzzle pieces.

Surprisingly, but ironically fitting this base and Voldemort’s were the only ones on the entire collection to bare snakes. Dozens of identical serpents had been paired together and twisted in such a way as to create what at first Harriet had related to a stylized S but after tilting her head to the side had seen as a sign for infinity. Closest to the bottom along with the snakes there were daggers, spears, holly leaves and berries, tree roots, ferns, apples, and snowflakes. As you moved up the stacking these items gave way to a row of ravens and great-horned owls flying to alternate between species. 

Help up on by the birds was a band that cut through the sculptures which made up the rest of the base. This smooth surface provided a place for delicately protruding lines to form letters from a variety of languages, most of which despite years of searching they had failed to identify. What they could translate seemed to be titles. ‘Slayer of’ a name or perhaps it was a noun. The Snake. Son of Kings. These were some of the few they had managed to translate in their entirety.

Placed over this band in the center front of the base was the plate which held the epitaph. Like Harriet and Voldemort’s it had little to say. They had confirmed with the distant Potters that the epitaph would only be filled and the statue come to live once the person was dead. Until that time very little information could be gleamed from it. From her sire they could gleam nothing at all as they could not translate the few symbols there.

Despite the fact that they had seen this statue and this base many times without it changing Harriet and Voldemort still inspected it on the chance they might discover something new. They used their eyes and magic to check it from top to bottom but they found nothing they hadn’t before. 

While they were inspecting, Nagini went off in search of what else might be hidden in around them. When they were done with their inspection she sound out the call, bringing them to her first find. As Harriet moved across the snow towards Nagini’s voice she expected to unveil the same figures they always found around her sire in the past. 

To the right of her sire statue there had always stood the statue of a man and to his left the statue of a woman. The man was large, tall and covered in bulky muscle which his armor emphasized. Unlike her sire’s statues or that of the Potters this man was depicted fundamentally of uru with minor accents of gold and ice. The woman however was depicted with a mixture of uru and ice with golden accents to her appearance which was slim like Harriet’s sire. Given the likenesses and contrasts and what the layout of the Potters represented Harriet suspected the woman to be her biological aunt, her sire’s sister, while the man was perhaps a life partner of some sort or an adopted brother. 

Behind her sire’s generation there usually stood four statues. One was of a Jotunn. Made almost entirely of ice with uru and gold accents he stood with the full height and glory of his race. At his side was a woman with a human look made mostly of uru but also some ice with gold accents along her tall body which stood a good foot taller than Harriet. Across from them was another pair, both of whom also looked human clad in armor. The man was older but stood strong, bearded and missing an eye. Like her presumed aunt he was made of ice and uru with gold accents along his body. At his side stood a woman mature face but younger than him by years. Her body was made entirely of uru with gold accents through out.

Given where Nagini was calling from Harriet expected to find the statue of the Jotunn but as Voldemort pulled the covering away that was not what they found.

The statue before them was made of what appeared to be a textile held together and mostly covered by a mixture of metals which formed the armor which covered its body. While the being was humanoid in basic structure it looked less human in appearance than a Jotunn. What was most concerning to Harriet was the stance of the creature which spoke to aggression and a willingness to attack. When Harriet followed its eyeline she saw it aimed at her sire’s back. Looking to the base she saw it bore etchings of thousands more like itself.

From a new spot Nagini called their attention to the next hidden statue. Dividing to cover more ground Voldemort and Harriet set to searching out in the expanse for what there was to find. After hours of uncovering statue after statue they finally gave up.

Standing at the point of a wedge was her father with an army at his back. Thousands of soldiers cast of the same mold cast, looked to him at the ready to attack.

“What do you think it means,” Harriet asked as took it all in her own base.

Eying the masses wearily from her perch on Voldemort’s shoulders Nagini hissed, “A threat.”

“Indeed,” her master agree. Reaching up he placed his hand on his familiar to offer her reassurance. “But is the threat against Harriet’s sire, or does he lead them.” 

A dreadful intuition rose up from Harriet’s gut pushing words from her mouth which she heard and knew to be truth. “He leads them or he dies.”

Besides her Voldemort’s jaw flexed. His eyes tracked over the number which stood opposite them know this was only the portion of the army they had taken the time to reveal. He felt certain there were more out there. A certainty Harriet shared.

“He stands in our direction,” Voldemort pointed out. “He stands facing you, I, and the legacy we come from.”

“I believe we have found the general.”

These days Harriet did not need Voldemort to speak his thoughts to know what he was thinking. Nevertheless she was glad he said it to spare her the task.

An army stands ready  
A General has been procured to lead them  
The General shall come before the leader of earth’s Shield,  
To make declarations of war  
The Shield will fail, the ground will crumble,  
But the beacon and her knights will come to the fore  
To stand at the side of the Shield and their heroes  
Together they shall see us prevail

A month prior Harriet and John bore witness to this prophecy leaving the mouth of Sybill Patricia Trelawney. The warning was unsettling but became truly disturbing when it was learned that these same words were reported to have been delivered simultaneously from every prophet on earth. From the ancient to babies who had yet to say their first word, this warning and promise was spoken in every language earth knew. Such a thing was of legends meant to have occurred thousands of years ago.

No one had been happy about this news despite the promise at the end. They were all particularly frustrated as they had no idea when to expect this to happen or how long it might last. The army was ready and their general named but how long until they decided to attack? Once they were decided how long would it take do it and from what direction would they come.

Those who were familiar with prophecies from Trelawney and ones made by others believed Harriet and her people to be the knights. Harriet had her own suspicions as to who the heroes and ‘earth’s shield’ referred but was fighting hard not to make assumptions. Harriet had more than enough anecdotal evidence to know that assumptions could do much worse then make you look like an ass.

“We don’t need this right now,” Harriet complained not for the first time.

There were so many other things on Harriet’s person plate and Earth’s as a grander whole. The magical world had finally been dragged into a new era of innovation and progress for which they were long over due while the muggles were progressing their science to a point where soon most every day acts of magic might seem mundane or useless to them. With both of these developments came growing pains and new threats which needed to be monitored and carefully dealt with. Then there was the matter of the upcoming Convergence being a mere sixteen months away. For some things almost a year and a half would be plenty of time to prepare but for the scale, nuances, and numerous moving parts of what they had to contend for this event they could not afford to be anything but ahead of schedule as some things would inevitably go wrong along. A war was an intimidating enough prospect to consider but with the threat of a Convergence looming on the horizon as well it filled even Voldemort with some level of dread.

If they were left too weakened or worse, were still engaged in war when the way was opened between the nine realms of Yggdrasil the possibilities were nightmarish when considered.

The last time a Convergence had occurred was approximately five thousand years past and still earth was dealing with the consequences. Entire species and people had been lost to the anomalies and effects on magic a Convergence created approaching, during, and after its happening. That wasn’t even speaking of the actual wound the portal created in space where it actualized. Then perhaps worst of all while the Convergence was happening all of the nine realms would be connected allowing all manor of life and matter to travel between. 

Those five thousand years ago had seen the dementors come from Muspelheim to Earth through the Convergence. Unfamiliar with the species it took earth’s magicals years to devise reliable methods to defend against the invasive species which thrived with no natural predators and a variety of viable prey available. Then it was decades more for the magicals to learn how to cull the dementors number. In that time the three dementors who had managed the journey had managed to multiply into hundreds.

What was perhaps worse was the attention the Convergence brought to Earth.

When the dementors came through it was into the apex of a magically rich environment. The already terrified and confused creatures present tried to flee their malicious presence and in the attempt many ran through the Convergence through to other realms. In particular a herd of Unicorns had managed to get through to Alfheim where the inhabitants of that realm understandably grew enchanted with the equine. They began traveling to earth to study and capture unicorns and other species to bring back with them. Many historians and magizoologist agreed it was these attempts to domesticate the species that begun the decline and endangerment of Unicorns in the wild. 

With the attention of the Elves came the other seven realms of Yggdrasil and beyond in numbers never before seen. Sometimes these visits were harmless or even beneficial. After all it was thanks to breeding with the magical beings of the other planets that the first magical races came to be and thrive. Reintroducing fresh blood from this throw back to their original magical heritage documented to bring healthier, more magically powerful offspring. However, not all visitors were kind. There was subjugation, slavery, destruction, poaching, the bringing of disease and parasites and more invasive species. 

When the Asgardians claimed Earth in their conquest of the nine realms of Yggdrasil it brought some peace though it was not absolute. The Asgardian people saw Earth as a play ground for their amusement and confrontations for eons. It was only some thousand or so years before Harriet time that Odin finally declared earth and its people should be left alone to develop as they will. Despite this ruling some still came to earth seeking obscurity or to make a profit. Their numbers were generally small and they worked hard not to draw the ire of Asgard down on themselves.

Some who came had never left. Many of these immigrants were Asgardian. For all the wonder and advances of their home realm there were a number of its people who were not happy with Odin’s rule. Many of these deserters had been living out their long lives hidden on Earth with either the magicals or the muggles or sometimes passing between the two. All had been keeping their identities a secrets rather than living in celebrity but in the last years Harriet with the help of Voldemort and others had managed to track them down as well as the other aliens who had decided to make Earth their home.

Most were allowed to live as they did before after proved they were not a threat and shared what they knew of magic and science and life beyond this planet. Some however were malicious or cancerous in their nature and could not be set free. Those number were dealt with. Most locked away where they could no longer do harm.

Harriet and Voldemort had suspected they might find her sire in this search, but if they had found him he had not been recognized for what he was.

From beyond her dream Harriet could hear her morning alarm calling her to wake.

She turned to look to Voldemort but he and Nagini were already gone.

Sighing, she looked out at her sire and the army behind him one last time before allowing herself too wake.

Leaving the cold and golden sky of her dreamscape Harriet woke to the cold and golden sky of her bedroom. Sixteen years ago her suite was a space waiting to be filled. In the time since it had become as much home as the rest of the cottage.

The ceiling was enchanted to mimic the gold skies of her dreams but not to replicated them completely. The sky above her was filled with fluffy golden clouds and a sun. Beyond them rather than blue skies, the white wood of her angled ceiling could be seen. The gold was carried down into her room with red being present there as well.

Outside this space Harriet did not let herself indulge in her old house colors. She didn’t want people to accuse her of bias or still favoring Gryffindor, Hogwarts, or Britain. As such she avoided any colors or symbols that might be seen to show a favoring for any of these things. For the sake of her goals she needed to be seen as neutral, objective, the seer who wasn’t limited by her personal perspective but looked to see a matter from all angles.

Rolling onto her side Harriet looked to Nagini’s perches on the wall but the branches were empty. Opening her inner eye Harriet could see through the wall to where the familiar laid in Voldemort’s room. The two were conversing as he got ready for the day which Voldemort was almost finished doing. Not wanting to fall too far behind Harriet took a deep breath before closing her inner eyes and rolled out of bed. After over a decade of practice it no longer strained her to look at the world in through her inner eye but it did take its toll. Given the day she was expected to have Harriet preferred to save her energy.

As she walked across the cold wood flooring for the bathroom Harriet grabbed her silk house robe from where it was draped over her old school trunk at the foot of the bed. As slipped the her arms into the sleeves the material came to life, securing its closures along the front while flattening itself to lay properly over her night gown. 

Entering the bathroom Harriet took in her reflection in the mirror. The face it showed her had changed little since her graduation from Hogwarts.

The trials of coming into her Jotunn heritage had finally wound down in Harriet’s seventh year freeing her from that blasted itch and seeming to slow her aging almost to a halt. Her face took on an ageless quality that looked both young and old at the same time. Those familiar with her knew her age of course but strangers placed her anywhere from 20-40 though sometimes younger. Voldemort’s human form was much the same. As the years passed they had relied on makeup and how they dressed to present the allusion of aging but soon they would have to start applying subtle glamours to maintain the illusion.

After seeing to her quick morning routine Harriet headed out of her suite into the main room of the house. Nagini was lounging over the fire meaning Voldemort had finished in his rooms though he was not to be found in the main space. Heading for the kitchen Harriet found him there in light blue tight cut robes over a suit with fine black oxfords on his feet, and few understated accessories to bring him together. It was far from what Voldemort truly preferred for comfort and in styling but it presented John in the way he wanted and allowed Voldemort to transfer easily between business in the magical world and business in the muggle world by simply switching out his robes for an outer jacket.

At the kitchen table he was reading over one of his scientific journals. After receiving a report regarding the Hulk and how a human doctor developed such a form without the use of magic Voldemort had been… perturbed to say the least of it when he found he could understand very little of what the report had to say. His control slipped with his eyebrow twitching when Hermione informed them that this, was in fact the “simplified” version of the report.

“Blimey Hermione,” Ron had complained. “We aren’t all studied up on this stuff like you. You have to dumb it down a bit more.”

It turned out she had. The report she presented them was as basic as she could make it without introducing room for confusion through oversimplification.

Voldemort was used to being the smartest man in the room. He prized himself on being well educated on a variety of topics. To be shown a report about a matter of this importance but to have so little understanding of it irked him greatly. Since then he had been working in what little free time he possessed to catch up and stay abreast with the muggles scientific understanding of reality and its technological advances. A lesser man would have failed at this task with everything else he had to do but with his mind and determination he had done it.

In front of Voldemort the tea set was waiting for Harriet.

In a practiced routine she made tea for Voldemort and herself. As she put his cup in front of him he set his reading aside. They chose not to speak but instead enjoyed some quiet companionship after their night of work before they would need to go join the rest of the world where they would need to play their roles all through the day. Besides, they knew each other well enough that even without her abilities as a seer Harriet would have been able to predict what Voldemort might say and what she would say in return. It was the same for him.

When she finished her tea Harriet tilted the cup in her hands to check her leaves and sighed. She turned to face Voldemort’s expectant expression and informed him, “Frustration in business.”

Voldemort’s face twitched, angered by the likely implications of this. They both knew what meeting she had on her itinerary for the day which was probably the source of this coming frustration.

Throwing back the rest of his own tea he held it out for her examination. 

Looking at his cup she slumped with some relief. “Your plan will bare fruit.”

Voldemort nodded relaxing with her as he took their cups for washing. 

At the sink he prompted, “And what have the house elves made this morning.”

Frowning in response to this, Harriet glared at his back before closing her eyes and setting herself to the task he had set her.

In the last year Voldemort had been pushing her to learn to use her seer abilities without relying on foci or rituals.

“You don’t need them. Your dreams prove that. You only need yourself. Relying on other things leaves you weak,” he argued. “You learned to cast spells wandlessly. You can learn to use your sight the same.”

And it was true. Harriet could use her sight without relying on tea readings, crystal balls, or any of the rest. The issue was, it was arduous this way and to be precise in what she was looking for without them was difficult on an entirely new level. The present was slightly easier for her to explore without aid but looking ahead to the future or back to the past was a struggle the likes of which had gone previously unmatched in Harriet’s life. When she tried she found herself lost to the expanse of all that currently wasn’t while the finite limits of the present were easier for her to navigate

When she practiced looking for an answer regarding the future or past it was easier the closer they were connected to her own life. The further removed she went from her own existence the harder it became to find what she was looking for and focused on it. Voldemort insisted this was matter of confidence. Magic was governed by will. Harriet believed she was limited and so she was. If she embraced her confidence that she could do the task at hand then her magic would comply.

What he never said but they both knew was that there was likely an element of fear to it as well. Several times over the years Harriet’s abilities had scared her. The idea of being able to see all time and space without aid was a terrifying prospect. Not only was the idea completely foreign to a normal human existence but the implications it might have?

But having to rely on things beyond herself put her at a disadvantage.

Harriet needed these skills which meant facing her fears and practicing, proving to herself she could do it and gaining confidence through experience.

With some effort Harriet was able to cast her inner eye to the future, specifically to that mornings breakfast and what she would eat then she pulled back to see what Voldemort was eating with her. She could see it but he hadn’t asked Harriet what the house elves would serve. Voldemort asked what had been made and not all that was made was likely to wind up in front of her. Knowing this Harriet latched on to her breakfast and started to look into the past. As time moved backwards she followed the food from the table back to the kitchen where it was made. Once there she struggled to transfer her anchor to the location. Once she managed it she continued to travel back through time watching for the answers to the question posed to her.

With some triumph in her voice she informed Voldemort, “You will be happy to hear you will be having a salted cod omelette with roasted vegetables this morning while I will be having fresh made yogurt with granola and cloud berries, Winky’s baked eggs, and fried greens. Several full English’s have already been delivered to the Dursley household and the elves are currently working on their usual service of finger foods for guests through out the day.”

Opening her eyes Harriet expected that was the end of it but Voldemort’s expression told her differently.

“Try again,” he encouraged her while impassively moving to dry the dishes.

Fighting not to squint at him Harriet forced herself to close her eyes with grace.

She thought back on what Voldemort asked for, looking for the trick he put in to make her stumble. ‘And what have the house elves made this morning?’ 

Dismally Harriet resigned herself to what she would have to do. Looking forward to breakfast she followed the food back again to the kitchen from where she proceeded to track each of the house elves individually through the last twelve hours to see what they had been up to. By the time it was done she had a headache from how hard she had to concentrate to stay with them as they moved through time and space.

Resentfully she informed Voldemort, “As you requested Winky has made a fresh batch of toiletries for the pair of us, Wonder has made origami towel creatures in all the bathrooms -and I do mean all. You must be more specific in your orders with her- and finally Kibble snuck into Percy’s house to make breakfast for them as well.”

“Well done,” Voldemort praised her with genuine pleasure.

Striding forward he kissed her forehead.

“Ready to go?”

“In a minute,” Harriet said as she wanted to give herself time for the headache to fade.

Nodding Voldemort accepted this and made for the other room.

Harriet allowed herself to sit stewing at the kitchen table for her requested minute before rising to her feet. 

She was nearly thirty-two years of age. She did not enjoy being tested like a first year. Worse she did not enjoy struggling to accomplish the task. Divination had always come easily to her. Struggling with something that always came naturally contradicted her sense of self, challenging her identity.

Heading for the front door Voldemort was already there with Nagini secured in her travel case for warmth. In their dreams she may have been able to endure the cold but in the waking world it was better for her health and temperament that they keep her protected. 

Holding out her hand Harriet took Nagini’s carrier while Voldemort saw to the door.

Running his hand over the snakes they came to life. In quick order the lock presented itself with its fangs bared for Voldemort to offer his blood for their ‘escape.’ It was one of many fail safes he had insisted on, with just as many measures in place to keep someone the house as there were to keep them out.

Once the lock had Voldemort’s blood the door swung itself inward clearing the way to the Arctic tundra that was their yard. Even after all the years they had been there the beauty of her home could still take Harriet’s breath the same as the beauty of Hogwarts grounds still could.

As the door sealed shut behind them the pair made headed out into the snow to clear the protections against magical travel of all the kinds that were placed on the house and surrounding grounds. After years of the act they knew exactly how far they needed to go. Before crossing the perimeter they turned to embrace one another. Even though they were meant to be reunited in an hour or so’s time life had ways of depriving one of the expected. On the chance the separation came with complications, or -fates forbid- proved permanent Harriet always wanted to ensure they had a proper goodbye before parting ways. Thankfully Voldemort was willing to indulge her.

Pulling away the pair smiled.

“Goodbye Harriet. Goodbye Nagini,” Voldemort said with some volume so his familiar could hear. “I’ll make my way to you shortly.”

“Goodbye. Stay safe,” Harriet said, and unwilling to help herself she allowed a thread of magic to leave through her hand to Voldemort.

He could not see it or sense it but knew what she had done from watching and knowing her. Others might have rolled there eyes over her protectiveness or made light of it in some other way. Not him. Voldemort always treated the giving over of her magic for the well being of another as something sacred.

“Thank you,” he told her with complete sincerity as he squeezed her hand. 

Over the years Harriet and Voldemort together had worked very hard to improve and understand their magic as mixed race beings. Fear was a key motivator. Voldemort feared for her well being and happiness. Harriet feared for him, herself, and all the others she loved and even those she didn’t. Harriet strived to be capable and competent. As frustrated as she found the practice of casting her sight without foci she never once refused. She wanted to have every advantage she could in protecting those she cared about and seeing to the things that would make the world better for them. Unfortunately for Harriet she had a very large capacity for care. She cared for most people. There were very few she could honestly proclaim to have no sympathy for.

Harriet discovered this particular gift of hers during this exploring of her abilities and training to get stronger. It came years before at a time when she had yet to master divination even with foci. She was practicing looking back through time at specific events. When viewing as an outsider she had been able to see these strands of magic travel from her to others but had no idea what they were. Going back over her life and viewing it as a seer Harriet was able to find thousands of instances of this happening, especially when she was a child. Of course when presented with a mystery Harriet’s desire was to solve it and when it came to solving a mystery involving Harriet Voldemort was the same. Together they with others they trusted to reveal the matter to worked together to study this skill of hers until they had a basic understanding of it.

Put in the simplest though not completely accurate terms Harriet compared the ability to dosing someone with liquid luck if liquid luck could effect more than merely the decisions and actions of the person who took it and had an occasional time release element. 

The people Harriet gave these ‘blessings’ as Luna called them could be affected in a variety of ways and sometimes the effect didn’t come until days down the road. In many ways the results were subtle with no one knowing about them if not for Harriet watching back over the recipients past to spot where the familiar feel of her magic changed things. Pushing Tonks to have the courage to approach Remus. Helping Remus to put aside his worries about being a werewolf to be willing to return her advances. Sirius’ recovery from Azkaban going more smoothly then it would have. Hedwig being as healthy and full of life as an owl half her age. Thousands of things had been changed for the better thanks to Harriet’s magic.

How exactly it worked and why Harriet had this ability they had yet to uncover, but it was her having it that first led them to believe that perhaps her being inheritance was more than only human and Jotunn. It was after they came to this suspicion that Harriet first found the statue of her sire added to the graveyard.

With their goodbyes seen to Harriet and Voldemort pulled apart. 

From his pocket he retrieved his sling ring. With practiced ease he opened a portal for Harriet to save her the trouble and allow him to see her off safely before leaving himself.

Giving him one last smile Harriet carried herself and Nagini off through the portal into the warmth of 12 Grimmauld Place. Harriet’s skin prickled with the change but unlike in the past rather than breaking out in an itch at the loss of cold it merely acclimatized, accepting the change of environment. Since her Jotunn heritage had finished the process of claiming her body she no longer needed the cold in the way she had. This did not stop her enjoying and desiring it.

Looking around the room and through its walls at the rest of the house with her inner eye Harriet made certain everything was as it should be before leaving the protective circle in which she stood. Finding there were no living presences she did not expect and none of the security measures were breached or tempered with Harriet was able to continue forward.

After faking Voldemort’s death at the Ministry Harriet had spent months at 12 Grimmauld Place leaving only a handful of times before her weeks at the Dursleys' arrived. Trips to the ministry for questioning and lending them her gift had been the bulk of those exertions. She had also gone for Madam Bone’s swearing in ceremony as Minister of Magic and for Sirius’ official pardoning. The only other chance she got to leave was going to Hogwarts to do the practicals for her O.W.Ls in the morning before the examiners got busy with the other students. She hadn’t been able to get away with leaving for interviews with Rita. Instead they arranged for Rita to meet up with Hermione and used Sirius’ communication mirror to carry out the interview. Rita had been upset about not being able to get a photo shoot for the articles but Colin had plenty of shots he could sell her. With Harriet’s permission of course. Permission Harriet was eager to give as these shots he could actually put his name to.

In the time Harriet had been confined without the Weasley's there to provide distraction, she developed a new sympathy for Sirius and his time locked away in the house. After her recent experience working with Voldemort to design their home she couldn’t help but to distract from her boredom by imagining how she might change the house. The following Christmas break when she and ‘John’ stayed with Sirius over the Holidays some of those plans came into effect as Sirius’ Christmas surprise. Their first night together at the Black family home Harriet and Voldemort used her invisibility cloak to go down the stairs to deal with Walburga’s portrait then headed back to bed to wait for Sirius to notice on his own. Three days later Sirius finally thought to question his mother’s silence and found the notes they’d left for him. He both laughed and cried at the reminder of his mother finally being removed from the pride and place she’d hoped for, forcing him to keep her and memories of his childhood at the forefront of his mind.

From their they spent the rest of the holiday giving the space a remodel, just the three of them. With Voldemort and all of his followers not currently a threat the Weasleys returned to the burrow for their holidays. They invited Harriet along and even Sirius and John but she politely declined though they did spend Christmas Day with the family of red heads. With the war called off Remus had also moved out in the last months but he returned for Christmas Eve with Tonks. Christmas Day however the two spent the day with Tonk’s parents. New Years was rung in at a party hosted by Slughorn where Sirius saved Harriet from a seventh year with ideas of giving her a kiss. It was Padfoot instead who tackled her to the round and licked the side of her head as the clock stuck midnight.

Once winter break was over Harriet didn’t see Grimmauld Place again until her birthday, when she was collected from the Dursleys for the last time. Vernon and Petunia she was happy to say she never saw after that day but over that summer and the previous she and Dudley had grown close. When she left it was with a hug from him, a promise to stay in touch, and plans to go on vacation together the following summer before Dudley went off to university. 

Sirius had a place of his own by that time. With his name cleared he was free to live where he wanted. He only returned to his childhood home for Order business -rare though it was by those days- and Harriet’s sake as they didn’t trust having her stay anywhere less secure. The security it offered was precisely why one of the gifts Sirius gave her on her coming of age was the deed.

“I know you have other options but I want you to have it.”

Despite how much he despised the place Sirius wouldn’t be able to bring himself to sell it. Giving it to Harriet freed him without guilt. Knowing this and having truly come to appreciate the house Harriet relented though she insisted that Sirius could stay with her whenever he like and that if he ever need money he should not let his pride stop him asking.

With Grimmauld place hers, Harriet went about making the space what she wanted of it. After Dumbledore’s death the secret of its location was broken allowing her to use it as a proper residence even if she didn’t go advertising where she ‘lived’. It was used as her cover the same as Voldemort acquired homes where John Potter lived. 12 Grimmauld Place is where she allowed people to believe she rested her head to keep them from looking for the truth and possibly hunting down her true home with Voldemort in the North. By day she used it as her causal offices and meeting space. That Harriet allowed people into her home showed a level of trust and openness that helped encourage the same in return.

The room she arrived in was the result of her first goal in the remodel and by far the one Kreacher had been most upset by, even beyond the moving of his Mistress’ portrait.

The elf heads would not remain on the stairwell. Harriet would not have it. But, having sympathy for and guilt in connection to Kreacher she had been gentle about the process. She had discovered by that time that part of what made Kreacher what he was had been due to possessing Voldemort’s hocrux. Her guilt came from tricking the him into believing it had the Locket had finally been destroyed. Kreacher had been fiercely loyal to her after that and eager to obey but even with that he did not wish to see the heads of past Black house elves moved. 

Harriet did her best to ease him into it, saying it didn’t feel as dignified as they deserved on several occasions. Even going so far as to say she wanted a better remembrance to his service when he died. She then carefully cleaned out the office next to the library before bringing Kreacher in to tell him of her plans to move the heads here as a gallery where they could be remembered and honored. Kreacher helped her with the work but she could tell he was still unhappy with it. To help build his confidence that this change would not mean they were forgotten Harriet asked him to tell her the stories of the elves who came before him while they set them into place. When everything was done Harriet regularly visited the room to ‘pay her respects.’ Every time she did Kreature swelled with pride and Harriet suffered from an extra grain of guilt.

‘Paying her respects’ was far from what Harriet actually did when visiting the room. The house had every protection the Black’s could give it when she took ownership but what they had done was nothing compared to the outfitting Voldemort had given it and the improvements that had continued to be made with time. One of these protections was a work of sorcery designed to block sling rings from opening portals into or around the house. They’d left only one spot where it could be done. One very small, very specific spot. The odds of someone being able to open a portal there on chance were astronomical but on the chance it happened they had the protective circle in place both to keep unwelcome guests from leaving and to keep Harriet or Voldemort from being ambushed on arrival.

This one exempted space was in the gallery of former house elves. Harriet had told Kreature she’d done this so she could be reminded of their service ever time she came and went. In truth it was because this was a spot no one outside of herself, Tom, and Kreature should have a desire to visit. Others never considered that the room might be more than Harriet’s kindness to her elf while getting something she wanted out of sight tucked away.

Making her way for the door Harriet cast cleaning charms and reinforced the protections on the heads. This was something she did whenever she came or left knowing it touched Kreature to find them so looked after when he came to visit as the old house elf was spending the bulk of his time divided between Sirius’ and Narcissa’s homes. With Narcissa he was welcome. With Sirius he had to come in at night and times the master of the house was out to avoid being seen but Kreacher refused to give up seeing to that household as he felt it a disgrace that the Black family head be without proper service. This conviction grew more severe when Sirius’ bachelor pad became a home where two young black heirs ran about, both as much trouble makers as their adoptive father.

For a house elf of such age Kreature had found a new life in recent years thanks to being separated from Voldemort’s hocrux and the blessings Harriet gave him. Like Hedwig and Nagini every strand Harriet gave to the old house elf seemed to go directly to maintaining good health.

Where in years past the house had been dark and rundown under Harriet’s care it had been repaired and made considerably more welcoming. Much like how she and Voldemort dressed, little was done per their taste or preference. Most choices were made for practicalities and the impression it made with others. Every room was designed with thought towards making others at ease. Every thing was lit in warm light with nary a shadow to be found. Nothing was stark white or overly dark. Things were kept clean but not so pristine as to put someone off from touching or exploring. Despite the fact that Harriet did very little actual living there it maintained a very lived in feel. For Sirius who spent so much time hating the place it still bemused him greatly to visit and find it felt like coming home.

At this time there were five Potter elves as well as Kreacher who still considered himself a Black elf but due to his connection to the house refused to give it up entirely despite the owner no longer being a Black. Unlike Dobby Harriet’s elves were insistent that they did not want pay or clothes or the freedom those clothes represented. Instead they had a large variety of ‘uniforms’ to choose from made of all manor of fabrics and designs with more added all the time as Harriet notoriously spoiled all those of her family and friends and the house elves most certainly counted as family for Harriet. Whatever they wanted she provided for them as well as things they didn’t feel they needed.

The entire basement had been converted to be solely the house elves space with no one allowed to enter without their permission. All storage beyond that of food or the house elves things had been moved up to the ground floor along with the boiler. The kitchen remained in the basement but had been remodeled to be of the sized and design that best suit those who would be working in it. Next to the kitchen and the kitchen storage there was a communal area for the elves. Off of that ten suites had been made, just as much sized and designed for house elves as the kitchen. Ten was more than they needed currently but Harriet preferred to be prepared for the future than to react when things happened.

Like the basement the ground level of the house had seen much redesigning as well. Coming down from the stairs the hall continued in four directions. Heading back still led to the door for the basement. Heading forward led you to a door which sectioned off the entrance way allowing people to come in off the street without having free rein of the house. To one side where the dinning room had once been was a sitting room full of comfortable furniture for people to relax and wait. Across from it were the offices. Through a set of double doors which were usually left open was the assistants office. Originally Harriet had provided each assistant with their own office but in the end they asked that they all be combined as it was too much of a bother to be constantly going back and forth, figuring out who’s office to go to, and getting duplicates of things they could share. When they needed some seclusion there were other rooms in the house they were free to retreat to and claim for their own.

Off of the assistants’ office was the floo room where the only fireplace connected to the floo network was located.

To the other opposite side through another set of double doors was Harriet’s office. The room was dominated by a desk with one chair facing the door and two waiting for guests across from it. Around the walls storage had been build in. From the hip down were closed door wooden cupboards. Sat on those cupboards and reaching up to the ceiling were habitats expanded with wizard space to give their inhabitants all the room they could want.

In his last year Dumbledore worked to give Harriet the connections he felt she would need. One of these connections was introducing Harriet to the Scamander family. Harriet was genuinely interested in their work with animals and preservation. She hit it off well with the family who spoke to her about her being heritage and parseltongue with ready acceptance of these traits. Talking about it with them felt less like being an element of curiosity and more natural. 

When they asked her if she would be willing to use her gifts to help them with their work Harriet jumped at the chance. What she was most interested in was to using her parseltongue to help with the study of snakes. Her aiding them opened a conversation about the truths of parseltongue in the magical world with Rita campaign for ‘claiming the skill back from the dark.’ Another benefit was it giving Harriet a good excuse to start a snake collection. Many of the snakes she came into contact with preferred to live in the care of a human who could understand them. While Dumbledore was alive Harriet gathered herself a collection of snakes of all kinds and sizes. After Dumbledore’s funeral as a ‘comforting present’ John presented Harriet with a large snake. This was ho Nagini was brought into Harriet’s public life with none the wiser that she was the once Dark Lord’s familiar.

Harriet’s snake collection was perhaps the one thing in the house which made people uncomfortable but for the most part the snakes stayed out of sight during visits, retreating into the depths of their habitats and giving some comfort to the weary. But when Harriet was there along most would come to the glass to great her as they did that early morning. Setting Nagini’s carrier down on the desk, she greeted them in return while Nagini headed for her own habitat.

Sitting herself at her desk Harriet opened the top drawer on the left side which contained her communication mirrors based on the design of the one Sirius gave her. The partners to these mirrors were given out to those Harriet most regularly wished to speak with. Retrieving the one she wanted Harriet pulled it out of the drawer to arrange it propped in front of her. Tapping a stone set at the top activated the mirror on her end, sending out a signal to its mate which let out a soft chiming call to the owner.

As the mate mirror was activated the face of Harriet’s former divination Professor filled the frame. Smiling she greeted him with a slight bowing of her head. “Firenze.”

“Harriet,” he returned.

After Umbridge’s reign came to its abrupt end and Dumbledore return to Hogwarts Trelawney decided not to return to her previous post. She claimed it was due to Hogwarts being tainted for her by the last year’s experience but Harriet knew the truth. Trelawney had experienced the luxury, pay, and generally little work she was given consulting for John. She didn’t want to give it up. Harriet didn’t blame her. To ease Harriet’s guilt over her firing Voldemort had set Trelawney up extremely well. While Harriet missed having her mentor with her at Hogwarts she did not resent her decision. Beyond her own selfish wishes Harriet was glad that Trelawney stayed away as Firenze was by far a superior teacher and did more to promote interest and validity in divination than Trelawney ever did as a Hogwarts Professor.

Trelawney still worked for ‘John’ and Firenze still taught at Hogwarts though he had returned to living in the Forbidden Forest as the tempers and judgment of the herd had lessened with time and the changes which Harriet had helped push to happen in relations between the wizarding world and beings.

“What did the stars have to say? Did your efforts turn up anything new,” she asked, knowing she did not need to bother with pleasantries with Firenze.

Outside night was only just giving way to dawn. The centaurs she knew would have spent the night divining as they like everyone else they were worried about this general and the expected war to come. All with the Sight or a hint of the Gift were trying to find answers to tell them how to prepare but fulfilling answers seemed impossible to find.

“There has been no change. Mars is still bright. War comes. The other herds reported nothing more than what we have been able to divine ourselves,” Firenze explained.

Harriet sighed. It was the answer she expected but that did not stop her from being disappointed.

“What of your dreams,” Firenze asked. “What visions came to you in the night?”

Settling back in her chair Harriet began to describe her dream to him as best she could while keeping her secrets.

This would be the first conference of Harriet's day but it by no means would be her last.

She expected the day to be long and tiring. She had no idea the extremes it would take for galaxies away the General stood preparing for his travels. A connection had been established to the Tesseract. His way was about to be opened. As Thanos desired Midgard would be taken. Half their number would be killed. The Tesseract would be put into the Mad Titans hands. Only then would Loki’s bargain be fulfilled and Loki intended that this bargain be filled.


	3. A Better Life He Couldn’t Imagine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy’s morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!Warning!!! For those of you not aware this story contains LGBTQ+ characters including but not limited to Gay, bi, and pan as well as ace and trans. If this is something you are not happy about then consider not reading ahead. If you are a member of the community and have a critique on how a character is portrayed than I am happy to hear it but critique on the choice to represent I will not take. I will not be harassed or shamed for representing the rainbow in this story.

Riding through the streets of London held no novelty for Percy. He remembered the days in the back of his father’s car when he looked at the muggle city passing pay and was filled with a sense fascination with their bizarre otherness. While Percy still felt the muggle world was other and found many of their ways bizarre it was no longer something he experienced from behind glass. He regularly had to interact with muggles on their territory for work and then living in the city. As such he had learned what he needed to in order to blend in. In learning and cohabiting the muggle side of things no longer felt like some fantastical different world.

As his cab pulled up outside 12 Grimmauld Place Percy had four sickles at the ready to pay, exactly the same as every morning between his flat and the office.

“Keep the change,” he told the driver.

The man smiled at him, “Thank you sir.”

Some years ago Harriet had announced a need for the Magical to be able to travel in muggle territory without drawing attention to themselves. The Knight bus was all well and good but with the muggles having cameras everywhere these days a bus and passengers appearing and disappearing was a danger to secrecy. The owners of the Knight Bus kicked up a fuse insisting they were not a risk but then Rita Skeeter investigated it was revealed to the public just how often the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes had to deploy the Obliviators due to the Knight Bus they backed down. With Rita and Harriet both putting that matter to attention the owners had to stand down, letting the change come.

The policy currently stood that the Knight bus could only operate in exclusively magical areas or in true emergency situations. Calling the Knight Bus outside of a proper emergency was an offense which would see them delivering you straight to the Aurors for a reprimand and a hefty fine. When this was enacted the Knight bus did struggled for a time but the expansion of magically exclusive areas allowed the business to recover and thrive once again. 

For the same reasons they’d worried about the Knight Bus people had been pushing for wizards and witches to have more spaces exclusively their own where people could live in peace without worrying about exposure, raising their children without fear of their accidental magic or having to teach them that them to hide who they were. The Ministry was working with its citizens, organizing to buy up property from the muggles that could be claimed for their people without drawing attention from the other side. Harriet, John, and others with the money and well established identities in the muggle world to do so were doing the bulk of the heavy lifting in this buying process. 

Some of the properties they kept for themselves but most were parceled out to be sold on the magical market. Very little of this work was happening in urban areas as the main focus was on scoping up rural properties. They didn’t need the land to live on. Their numbers weren’t so great and having expanded wizard space and construction allowed them to live comfortably in a small foot print. Secrecy and preservation were the main motivators. 

The magicals were uncomfortable with just how much open land was being developed with every day that passed, with the number of species going extinct, and the pollution that was saturating their world at higher and higher rates. Harriet had founded organization with a focus on preserving life and these properties were a large part of their work, seeing that muggle contamination stayed out and life could thrive. Already they were had brought several species magical and not pack out of endangered numbers. The results had been so successful that they’d expanded their efforts over the seas.

That wasn’t to say they weren’t living on some of the land they’d acquired. Already two new villages exclusively for magicals had been made with a third already underway. These villages had been built entirely bellow ground with the space above saved with recreation and agriculture. Along with the villages some businesses had established themselves on this land. Saint Mungo’s had already moved themselves out of the city after concerns were raised about the threat a major city drew from terrorists, a threat that was high on everyone’s mind with how drastically reports of muggle conflicts effecting magicals had increased in the last decade.

The Ministry, Harriet, Rita, and other prominent figures did not have to work hard to make people understand that the muggle world was growing more dangerous for them then ever. Terrorists bombing. New weapons with terrifying capabilities. Spy equipment that couldn’t be seen with the naked eye. The Hulk who destroy a city with his bare hands. The Iron Man who flew without a plane and fired death from his hand. Both born entirely by science and muggle means that had proven they could be replicated. News was coming out from the muggle world of new things to fear with every passing month.

In their fear many were calling for complete isolation from the muggles but Harriet and those who stood with her urged that wasn’t the answer. She argued that they needed to be careful and strive to maintain secrecy but that did not mean pulling back entirely from the muggles. She would never word it this way but Percy and others couldn’t help thinking of it as keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. If they pulled back entirely they wouldn’t know what the muggles were capable of and wouldn’t know what they needed to protect themselves from.

Often the solution to finding balance between secrecy and keeping the muggle world accessible were simple. Like the cabs. If the Knight bus could not travel in muggle territories the answer was not avoid travel there all together. If they needed to go somewhere in the muggle side of the world they could call for a cab, a cab that was completely legal on the muggle side of things but with magical protections and a magical driver. If you didn’t have a muggle phone there were a variety of ways to call a cab. Percy himself used the floo to book a cab for morning commute and then his ride home. Unlike with the Knight bus one had to wait as the cab ran and followed muggle limitations to stay under the radar. While some complained about the wait most acknowledged it was worth it to maintain secrecy.

While Percy had grown comfortable in his routine he didn’t know how much longer it would last. Harriet had been considering for some time leaving London. The city had too many eyes through both its people and camera. If someone thought to look they would probably find the activity around 12 Grimmauld Place suspicious. It was a risk. The same risk that was driving more and more magicals out of the city.

Percy expected the time was only a few months away where Harriet would bite the bullet to move. He didn’t think she would completely give up 12 Grimmauld Place. Harriet already had to give up her first home in Hogwarts and to give up her second entirely would be too much, but Harriet was forever practical and self sacrificing. She had been the calm but urgent voice telling the Wizarding world that the time for change was now, before it was too late. Percy knew that Harriet would endure any measure of personal pain to do what was right. 

With his cab pulling away Percy climbed the familiar steps of 12 Grimmauld Place which he believed would soon be retired to the status of a safe house or used only for occasional business or family gatherings. He wouldn’t feel the loss as much as Harriet but there would be a mourning process when the time came. He had spent many years working there for Harriet. More so than the burrow or Hogwarts it was here that he had developed into a man who was contented enough in himself to find happiness in his life.

Pulling out his copy of the key Percy unlocked the door opening the building to visitor’s for the day. Walking forward he moved out of the London air and into the small but comfortable space of the vestibule. Closing the door behind him he worked on shedding his coat and hat while waiting the buildings protections to register his presence, check him over as a threat, and then alert those inside that he was there. He’d just finished folding his jacket over his arm when the door swung open allowing Percy through to the main house.

“Good morning Mister Kibble,” Percy greeted Kibble, the house elf who was standing on the other side holding the door opened for him. “Thank you for your care with breakfast this morning. It was wonderful as always.”

“Thank you and good morning Mister Weasley,” the young house elf returned, his words slightly rushed with his eagerness to finish the pleasantries and report, “Mistress Harriet is on a call. It’s her ninth of the morning. She’s been up for hours yet she’s not yet called for breakfast, sir.”

Percy sighed. Normally Harriet wasn’t one who needed minding to see she look after herself but with all the recent stress she had been overlooking certain things, like meals, much to the displeasure of her elves.

“I’ll see she eats,” Percy swore to the elf with gravity.

Accepting his world on the matter Kibble gave a nod before popping back to his duties.

Previously Kibble had been the house elf for the Crabbe family but after Voldemort’s fall he along with most of the Crabbe family’s ‘other assets’ had been stripped from them. Harriet and Hermione both had been unhappy with how the house elves were treated during these seizures. Hermione most outraged that the elves were being treated as property, taken away as a monetary punishment rather than being freed from slavery and abuse while Harriet had been more concerned for the house elves themselves and the possible trauma of being forcibly removed from their families.

When it was announced the Ministry would be auctioning off the house elves to new owners to raise funds for Death Eater victims Harriet used her fame and voice to try to put a stop to that. While she got people talking about if they should raise some standards for House Elves it didn’t come in time before the auction. Getting special permission from the school Harriet left Hogwarts that day to attend where she placed winning bids on every last one of the elves. Very few of the those present were willing to try outbidding her or raising the price to be spiteful about it. Those who did found she was far more willing to give up a fortune for each and every house elf.

After the auction Harriet gave an interview with Rita Skeeter on her new show airing on Lee’s recently launched radio station. There Harriet shared her history with Dobby and other house elves to allow others to understand why protecting house elves as beings mattered so much to her, even going so far as to point out that as someone with being inheritance herself she found the demeaning and miscategorizing of house elves and other races as creatures rather than beings deeply disturbing. When Rita asked her what exactly she would do with so many house elves Harriet explained that she hoped to play as match maker and that is exactly what she did. With John and Sirius and Percy’s help the House Elves had been found work with compatible families who would respect and appreciate the work they would do. Contracts were signed to protect the house elves providing protections including that the elves did not need to receive clothes to leave service if they so wished and that any matches, breeding, and offspring that resulted from such things were in the house elves control, not there families to arrange and demand so that little baby house elves could be born to serve or be sold on.

Kibble was one of the few who had been part of that auction who asked to stay behind and continue working for Harriet rather than being found a new home in which to work.

Eventually the practices Harriet set with these elves became the standard the Ministry implemented in law to protect House Elves along with starting a sub-department to over see specifically to their welfare but it had taken many years. Even with Harriet’s influence many of the developments she worked for had taken much dedication and time to see change actually happening in the magical world but with as more was achieved further changes more readily seemed to come until they finally reached a point where the ball was rolling and growing without Harriet and those who supported her having to push it every inch up hill.

The magical world was finally entering a time of true progress and innovation and when Percy looked at why he found all positive change lead back to Harriet in one way or another. What small part he played as her personal assistant gave Percy immense pride. Not once did he regret leaving the Ministry behind to take up this work.

Percy had been plagued with guilt after that night when the Dark Lord and his people attempted and some would argue succeeded in taking the Ministry. Other’s tried to console him that because he was under the Imperius curse he was absolved of any blame for the events of that night. At the time Percy couldn’t believe them. His feelings weren’t helped by Rita Skeeter’s efforts having painted him as a hero. The more people praised him and built him up the more like a fraud Percy felt. That his family also had accepted his apologies was both a comfort and a torment as he did not feel he deserved it.

Trying to assuage his burdened conscience Percy threw himself into working under Madam Bones in handling the fallout from the Dark Lord’s attack. When she was elected to take up the roll of Minister replacing Fudge Madam Bones named Percy one of her undersecretaries. The position brought him no pride and the work that followed brought him only a minimal sense of achievement. Having to return to the Ministry every day kept his wounds open and his sleep full of nightmares.

Along with his work for the Ministry Percy dedicated himself to trying to find a way to make up for his failings in doubting her and falling under the Imperius to Harriet. She assured him there wasn’t a need for it to have her fogginess but relented when Percy made it clear that it was something he needed to do. He begged her to tell him what what she might need that he could help with. She could only come up with one answer. Sirius. Her godfather. Her innocent godfather who was in the process of having his name cleared. She asked Percy to keep an eye on his case to make certain nothing tricksy was being done and he eagerly fell on the task.

As much as Percy didn’t care for Miss Skeeter at the time he worked to coordinate with her and anyone else he needed to in order to ensure that Sirius’ case played out to the best outcome. He arranged meetings, ensured paper work ended up where it needed to go, served as a liaison on Sirius’ behalf, kept a watchful ear for rumors of ill news, and even leaked information from within the ministry as well as giving Rita the interview she’d been pushing for in order to help show his public support for Sirius to help seal public opinion in their favor.

By Summer Sirius’ name was cleared of his previous charges and pardoned for his status as an unregistered animagus and for escaping Azkaban. In compensation for his ordeal he was compensated with a reward which he didn’t need but it meant something to him to take. The day of the official declaration was the first time Sirius was seen by the public since the truth of his guilt was made known. It was also one of the few public appearances Harriet made in the months after the Dark Lord’s defeat. 

The world was eager for news and pictures of her and as such they fell on the articles about Sirius’ innocence. There presented was a picture of Harriet and Sirius standing side by side. He looked leagues different from the mad man they had all seen on the wanted posters. Seeing Harriet smiling up to him both with tears in their eyes helped to silence any doubts being spoken about the leniency Sirius was shown.

Harriet thanked Percy wholeheartedly for the part he had played in bringing that day about and while he was happy she was happy, it didn’t feel like enough to nullify the debt she was owed. 

Even years later he still felt indebted to her.

So even after Sirius was cleared Percy was still went looking ways he could help Harriet. Unfortunately there weren’t many to be found. She was safe. She was doing well at school. She had only one more summer to spend with her relatives and seemed contented with that. Dumbledore and her reputation were gave Harriet connections Percy could not touch. It felt like anything Percy could give her wasn’t needed. It was during a meeting between John and Madam Bones that he finally found inspiration. 

They were discussing Harriet, her future, and the rumors circulating that Harriet would become an Auror after graduating. Shaking his head John declared, “It will never happen. Harriet has zero aspirations to work for the Ministry or anyone else. She intends to invest and live off the interest so she will be free to pursue her passions.”

If that was what Harriet wanted, then Percy was determined to see that it worked out for her.

While living off interest sounded like a wonderful thing Percy didn’t trust the stability of it. Harriet had her inheritance, her reputation, and several people who would help support her if needed but things could always go tragically wrong. As Percy had no way of supplementing Harriet’s finances himself he looked for other ways of giving her a larger cushion to fall back on. He quietly sent feelers out for investment opportunities while looking for ways that Harriet could make some fast money. With businesses effected on all sectors by the recent fall of the Death Eaters there were many opportunities to step in and take advantage. Percy wrote to Harriet about them all even the less than scrupulous. Most she turned down, some she informed others of so they might act, but a few choice she acted on herself. Where Percy could he helped her to follow through on matters while she was stuck at Hogwarts.

It was the following summer while researching some of their old laws that were still on the books for the Minister that Percy came across something interesting.

Back in the days when it was legal to settle disputes with duels which regularly ended in death there had been a rash of heirs and family heads dying to leave confusion and further fighting about the line of succession and what would be done with their estate. In response -and in all likelihood by the manipulation of someone or someones out for their own gain- a law had been created called The Rights of the Victorious. This law allowed the winner of such a duel to claim the estate of their opponent if they had no child to leave it to. In the case of an heir to the Family Head if no other child took their place before the death of the head then what would have been their inheritance went to victor. The measure was said to be meant to stop Heads and Heirs from rashly entering duels and it had worked. It was one thing to risk your life. It was another to risk all there was to you name going to your enemy should you loose. A wizard’s pride could not tolerate it.

Not long after The Rights of the Victorious were enacted a new law passed making it illegal to pursue such duels past first blood. In only a few short decades the practice of dueling with the intent to do injury was banned all together.

The Rights of the Victorious had not been in acted in over a century but it was still recognized by the Ministry. Though it hadn’t been an official duel what had transpired between Harriet and Voldemort was in the jurisdiction to enact the Right of the Victorious. On the magical side there wasn’t much to claim. Voldemort may have claimed to be the heir of Slytherin but he had not worked to officially take up the position of family head through the Ministry nor had he gone after official Headship of House Gaunt. There was however another family inheritance Voldemort had claim to as heir.

The Riddle’s may not have been magical but they were an affluent family.

With Harriet’s permission Percy filed the paperwork in Harriet’s name the day she came of age just after submitting for her to take up legal Headship of her branch of House Potter and as Head her declaration to adopt one John Potter under her branch. Later Percy learned that the adopting of adults was not done in the muggle word. While not done often in the magical world it was far from unheard of. Most often it was done as a last resort when no viable heirs were available. Almost always the one adopted was closely related to those they were being taken in by. That John was such a distant cousin caused some grumblings but that was just because people were happy to gossip. 

Given the reported closeness of the cousins people had wondered if their might be wedding vows in their future. Some were disappointed to discover their wouldn’t be, mostly those who believed that such a pairing would best serve to allow Harriet to pass her magical prowess on to her children. Others were thrilled that with John out of the way it left possibilities for others. Many were imagining a relative or they themselves marrying Harriet and taking on the Potter name, fortune, and prestige.

For years Harriet was plagued with suitors hoping for some sign of encouragement. Had she found someone perhaps the numbers would have died off sooner but Harriet had yet to meet anyone that made her feel they were worth the drama and distraction dating would bring. This didn’t stop people from trying though. Memorably at the New Year’s party Dumbledore through after Voldemort’s defeat one young man of twenty five who had spent the night shamelessly flirting and being rebutted by Harriet who was then sixteen had decided to try stealing a kiss from Harriet when the bells tolled midnight. Sirius however had intervened to save the day. Turning into Padfoot he tackled the boy to the floor. Giving him a taste of karma he bathed the side of the young man’s face in doggy kisses which were just as unwanted as the kiss he intended to subject Harriet to.

Jokingly the social columns referred to Sirius, John, and Percy as Harriet’s three musketeers. They were seen as Harriet’s designated protectors as she was rarely seen out in public without at least one of them in her presence. They all readily took up position as her guard, representation, support, defender, or whatever else she needed on the day at that hour. They weren’t the only ones willing to support her in this way but they were the ones the public were most aware of.

Heading from the foyer into the assists’ office Percy went to get started on what Harriet needed him to be for her that day.

Heading for the closet Percy took a look into Harriet’s office along the way. He could see that she was still on her call as Kibble reported with a mirror propped in front of her, talking away but the privacy protections were in place stopping him from hearing what was being said. Spotting him her gaze temporarily moved up from the mirror to catch his own and she smile at him in acknowledgment. He gave her a quick nod in return before her eyes and attention were back the mirror before her. Whatever was being said stole her smile putting a frown on her face.

Stowing away his muggle hat and coat Percy slipped into his outer robes for the day which he kept there in the office. With his wardrobe taken care of he turned his attention to checking the planner for the day looking for any adjustments that might have been made since the evening before and the messages next to it. Along with the expected conformations there was a note in Harriet’s hand alerting him to a failed attempt during the night to break into one of their collaboration campuses. Most concerning the perpetrator had escape and Harriet was unable to divine their identity. Ron was on the scene leading the investigation and working with the Aurors to figure out what they could. He expected to be there in time for the morning meeting but it couldn’t be guaranteed. The note didn’t need to say it but Percy knew Rita was going to need their official word on the matter and as Rita’s favorite among the assistants it would fall to him to reach out lest. If he didn’t it would probably take only three hours before she would invite herself to just show up at the house looking for one.

Percy frowned as he penned the letter along with an official quote Rita would be allowed to print. These days there weren’t many who would be willing to try to go after anything connected to Harriet. Even fewer were capable of escaping their security. Of that limited number those who would be able to block Harriet’s sight cut the number down even further pointing a clear arrow at the likely culprit. Without proof Harriet wouldn’t want them making assumptions and she was forever preaching against limiting your perspective. As her advice was usually sound Percy did his best not to let himself place the blame just yet but it was rather hard to do.

Moving that to the back of his mind Percy folded, sealed, and addressed his letter to Rita before placing it in the out going box on his desk. With that matter settled for the moment Percy turned his attention to the more expected business other the morning.

Percy was only just finishing settling matters at his desk and getting ready to get some food in Harriet when a soft chime alerted him that someone had arrived in the floo room. Not many had access to their floo, something designed to deter people from dropping by on a whim. If people had a matter important enough to see Harriet without an appointment they were generally willing to go through the trouble of traveling the slower path through muggle London. Being able to step through the floo made Harriet to accessible, giving people ideas about just what kinds of problems they would bring.

The chime signaling rather than the alarm said that whoever had come was welcomed and clean of anything harmful. Still it was protocol that Percy take a look through the peephole to be sure of who he was letting through. Opening the door he smile down at Dobby.

“Good Morning Mister Dobby,” Percy welcomed.

Even after all his years of freedom Dobby still stood taller at the showing of respect.

Stepping back Percy beckoned the house elf through into the house.

When Harriet left Hogwarts she asked Dobby if he would be willing to come work for her and John. Ever loyal Dobby’s had agreed. After all the times Hedwig and other owls carrying Harriet’s mail had been attacked or intercepted she didn’t want to put them and her privacy in danger by continuing to rely on owls to deliver her mail. Dobby’s new job was to serve as a courier delivering for Harriet and those who worked for her. He was paid the same wage Harriet would have paid a human. An exorbitant amount by Dobby’s view but Harriet insisted. Along with his wage he received an official and very smart set of uniforms and bags for when he was on the job. It was a uniform that in time came to be shared by several others when there was simply too much work for Dobby to see to it alone.

“Morning Mister Percy, sir. How is the morning going,” Dobby asked as he made his way around the room pulling deliveries out of his bag and setting them on the various desks. Leaning to the side he looked through the door at Harriet sitting at her desk, still in conversation and looking tired before the day had truly started. Dobby turned to Percy looking concerned.

“No good news I’m afraid,” Percy answered honestly. Picking up his letter for Rita had held it out to the house elf. “Only more work.”

Dobby’s ears dropped unhappily, not at the idea of work for him but at the idea of more work for them as a whole and Harriet particularly.

The chime for the front door rang out through the house.

“Excuse me Dobby,” Percy said. At Dobby’s nod he went to get the door where a look through the peephole showed Denise was reading the paper as she waited.

As Percy opened the door she help up the morning edition of the Prophet for him to see. With a beaming smile she greeted him, “Morning Percy. Did you know you made the front page?”

Blanching Percy held his hand out for the paper which she readily handed over. With her hands free she worked to shed her jacket while heading for the closet to see it stored away. With half an ear Percy listened to Dobby and Denise exchange their morning greetings. The rest of his attention were the front page article in front of him.

Under the headline Puddlemere United Win After A Grueling Game was a giant picture of the team’s celebration with a clear focus on a grinning Oliver in his Keepers Uniform placing a loving kiss on Percy’s lips. The photo was captioned ‘Oliver Wood Keeper of Puddlemere United sharing a kiss with husband Percy Weasley.’ Despite the focus on the picture the article thankfully focused being the game which they credited to Oliver’s impressive defense of the hoops against a skilled offensive in what had been truly dreadful weather.

Ten years previously Percy wouldn’t have been able to handle it if anyone saw him kiss a man in public let alone printed a picture of it but after much personal growth it was no longer devastating, only embarrassing. Percy didn’t know if it was something left over from his time in denial about his sexuality or just his nature but he was not enthusiastic for PDA though his preferences didn’t mean he resented Oliver for occasional lapses where he was too exuberant to think about their surroundings.

Percy’s journey to acceptance was in a large part due to Denise and her journey to be recognized for who she truly was.

She had come to work as Harriet’s second assistant to give Percy support fresh out of Hogwarts and just starting to transition. She’d already started using transfiguration to change her body match her identity and Percy hadn’t recognized her at all. He’d greeted her as a stranger and gently Denise explained who she was. At first Percy had thought it had been an accident, that they had suffered from a magical mishap that left them in a female body. He had been quick to assure he was sympathetic about the situation and wouldn’t treat Dennis any differently. Prepared for rejection and with the utmost of patience she explained to Percy that no, she was not a boy trapped in a woman’s body. In fact it was the other way around as despite what her body might have presented as she’d always been a girl seen by the world as a boy. She finished by asking that he referred to her as Denise and not Dennis in the future then very professionally gotten to the work.

Before that day the idea of a person being transgender was a foreign concept to Percy. Unfortunately for Denise Percy’s ignorance was common place in the wizarding world. Being one of Harriet’s personal assistants came with a good deal of publicity. People knew who they were and with that came a lot of talk about Denise. It fell to her to educate a lot of people or continue dealing with their ignorance. She took it in stride as was her way, becoming an advocate for Transgender and LGBT+ education and representation in the Wizarding world.

Through Denise and his own research Percy learned about gender identities and sexual orientations with Harriet’s support and being educated alongside him. 

Coming to terms with his own sexuality and coming out of the closet took some years but it had come. In the early days Percy was only out with Harriet and Denise. He dated and went about as a gay man only in the safety of the muggle world where no one knew him. But the more comfortable he became with himself the more the confines of the closet chaffed at him. He wanted to come out to his family and others but the fear of rejection kept him silent until one Christmas came.

After the Dark Lord’s defeat a tradition had developed around the holidays. Christmas Eve all the Weasleys were expected if able to arrive at the burrow to spend the holiday there. That time was reserved just for the family until Harriet, John and Sirius came in the morning with Sirius’ kids joining in once they came into the picture. Having spent their Christmas Eve the night before with the Lupins and Tonk’s parents their friends arrived with word that Tonks was expecting her and Lupin’s second child. Molly lit up at the news before her attention turned on her own children and the lack of oodles of grandchildren from them.

Her first target was Bill as her only married child.

“We’ve already talked about this mom,” her eldest explained exasperated. He looked to his wife for support but a clearly amused Fleur stayed out of it while sipping at her tea. Giving up on her help he continued, “Victoire is enough trouble on her own. We’re happy to keep her as our only just a little while longer. Then maybe we’ll have another.”

“Or two,” Fluer added between sips earning a playfully scornful look from her husband behind his mother’s back.

For a moment Molly looked satisfied and wistful at the promise of two more grandchildren. It didn’t last long however before her attention turned expectantly on the rest of her very much unattached children around the table. Percy felt his gut sink as it always did when the topic of his love life approached with the enviable talk of when would he settle down.

“Don’t look at us like that,” Fred complained from where he was perched on the counter.

From beside him George spoke up. “Yeah, at least wait until breakfast is done to go in on us woman.”

“Well how am I to look when only one of my children’s managed to settle themselves,” Molly questioned.

“It’s not like we’re old maids or something,” Ginny defended. “We’ve all got plenty of time to ‘settle.’”

Molly opened her mouth to say something but Arthur took her hand for a squeeze while slyly giving an apologetic look to their children who all looked unhappy with the topic at hand. “She’s right dear. Things are changing. Plenty of the kids these days are holding off getting married and starting families of their own these days.”

It was true. After Voldemort’s defeat there had been a record number of births but the overwhelming majority of these came from the older generations while the number of births and marriages in the younger generations took a decidedly marked decline. Most people contributed this to the fact that such large numbers of people were devoting themselves to work after Voldemort’s fall, eager to do their part to bring about change. There were a record number of new businesses being opened by young people, many of them just out of Hogwarts or only out for a couple of years. The twins hadn’t even waited that long. Much to Molly’s distress they’d dropped out of Hogwarts before their last year to open their joke shop with Lee following after them, dropping out to open his own radio station which expanded into a small media empire in the years since.

“And even if we did end up staying single would that be so bad,” Charlie threw in with some resentment gaining the attention of the table. With the eyes of his family on him Charlie locked eyes with his mother defiantly. “Not everyone wants a family. Not everyone wants a partner.”

“Well when your young,” Molly started to say but Charlie cut her off.

“No mom. It’s not about freedom or being young. Plenty of people don’t- I don’t want anyone. I just don’t see people that way. I never have. I love my family, I love my friends, and I love my work. That’s enough for me. Maybe one day I’ll want kids. Maybe one day I’ll find a person who’s an exception,” Charlie admitted but Percy could see in his face that he thought there was a greater chance of the moon being made of cheese. “But I won’t plan on that happening.”

There was silence around the table as people proceed what he’d said or waited to see how those processing would react. From where they sat both Sirius and John looking incredibly awkward at having instigated this conversation and now being trapped at the table for this family matter.

“Are you just not interested in dating, or are you not interested in anybody at all,” Ginny asked seeming to be simply curious.

“Not anyone.” 

Taking a deep breath Percy forced himself to speak, “There’s a term, a-sexual. It sounds like maybe its something you might relate with?”

The eyes of the table turned on him in surprise. Forcing himself to show a little more confidence Percy explained, “Denise is working with some people to make a book about attraction explaining its like a graph with romantic and physical attraction and how they are separate and scale. Some people don’t experience either. Some only one. Some like the same sex or not, some people like both, and some don’t care.

“Ha,” Ginny said. “And what’s that called?”

“What’s what called,” Percy asked his nerves frying his brain a bit.

“Someone who doesn’t care. What’s that called?”

“Um… well, bisexual for people who like their own gender and other genders,” Percy explained. Ginny nodded in her understanding to that and down the table Sirius saluted his mug a little though no one seemed to notice. 

Percy went on scared he’d get it wrong what he was saying wrong. The nerves were as bad as answering for his N.E.W.Ts. “And pansexual for those who experience attraction regardless of gender?”

“Oh,” Ginny said. Finishing her tea she got up to take her dirty dishes to the sink. “I like the sound of that. Sounds more right for me than bi by anyway.”

That took the room by surprise for all but the twins who took in all their faces with mischievous delight.

“You’re gay,” Ron exclaimed. “You like girls?”

“Not gay Ron and yeah obviously I like girls. I also like guys and lots of people,” Ginny said casually, like it was nothing, just fact and as a fact there was no reason that anyone should accept it with anything less than ease. Percy had never been so in awe of his sister as he was of her for so fearlessly doing what terrified him. 

“You’re all acting like this is some big news,” Ginny said setting her hands on her hips. “I wrote you all during my summer abroad about my girlfriend. Remember? Madison? Did you just think she was a one off or something?”

Realization spread around the room. 

“I thought she was a girl who was a friend dear,” Molly said softly.

Ron was nodding. “Like you and Luna or Hermione or Harriet.”

The twins rolled their eyes.

“Oh come on Ron.”

“You can’t be that oblivious.”

“Ginny’s had a crush on Harriet almost as long as you have.”

The twins revealed, watching in delight as Ron and Ginny both blushed scarlet.

“Shut up,” Ginny scolded them. “I’m much better than Ron. I got over that years ago and you know it.”

They shared a look and nodded shrewdly, agreeing, “True enough.”

Meanwhile Molly sat herself down in Author’s lap with husband and wife looking thrown.

“I…” Molly managed to get out sounding very uncertain of her words. “Well, that’s… I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Madison dear?”

“Yes,” Author agreed. “I’m sorry we didn’t know.”

Ginny and Percy both looked at their parents with naked love at their show of acceptance for her. Going over Ginny hugged them both at once placing kisses on each of their heads. “It’s alright. We just weren’t right for each other.”

As she pulled away they both smiled at her. 

“And while your both being accepting I’m just going putting this out there now. I’m not planning on having kids or settling down until I retire from Quidditch and that is hopefully a long way off.”

Molly gapped. “But Ginny.”

“No buts,” Ginny countered leaving no room to argue. “I want to focus on my career and I can’t play while pregnant. It’s not safe for me or the baby.”

“If your with a girl couldn’t they be the one to carry it,” Fred pointed out ruining Ginny’s excuse and throwing her under the bus to deal with future pestering from Molly about babies and marriage. She sent him a glare as behind her back Molly got that hopefully look back in her eyes, the look she got whenever the subject of grand babies came up

“Speaking of,” George said. “We should throw in that we aren’t planning for kids anytime soon either.”

Fred nodded, “I’m afraid you raised too many passionate children who are happy to focus on their work.”

“So you won’t be getting any grand babies from us.”

“At least not for a long, long while.”

The twins declared. They lessened the blow by each kissing their mother’s cheek.

Looking disappointed Molly turned beseeching eyes on Percy.

Bracing himself he explained. “I want kids but not until I find the right man… and there’s been no sight from him yet.”

He could see his siblings reacting to the news out of the corner of his eye but he kept his sights locked on his parents.

“Well, you let us know when you think you’ve found him,” his father said sounding dazed but not upset.

“…The Jefferson boy,” Molly said considering.

Percy looked at her confused. “What mom?”

“The Jefferson’s son,” she said gaining enthusiasm. “He’s a lovely young man. Works in the Ministry. On his way to a promotion. Word was that he was interested in boys as well. Maybe I could write his mother and-”

Ginny broke out in giggles while Percy buried his face in his hands, “Mom,” he complained.

“What,” she asked confused.

Having finished her floo call Harriet entered the room to stand besides Sirius and John who were looking thoroughly amused. Taking in the energy of the room she looked around confused. “What did I miss?”

“Oh we were just talking about marriage and babies,” Fred said directing a wicked grin at Ron.

With a mirroring grin at their littlest brother George picked up. “Oh, yes and we were just getting Ron’s turn.”

Bushing scarlet Ron glared at them before shrugging and staring down intently at his drink. “Just have to the find the right girl,” he grumbled.

Unfortunately that was far from the truth. What Ron needed was to let go of his fascination with the wrong girl. He’d been hung up on Harriet for so long that he’d ruined his chances with all his past girlfriends. He and Hermione could have really made a go of it if had laid his crush on Harriet to rest before perusing his feelings for his other friend. Fortunately they’d made it out of the failed attempt with their own friendship still in tact.

For Percy love had taken awhile to find. Coming out as gay to his family made coming out as gay to the wizarding world easier but being able to openly date didn’t mean Percy had all that much time to invest in it. His work kept him busy. Even when he found someone he was interested in they weren’t always very understanding of that or his commitment to his work. He had one boyfriend throw at him during a fight that maybe Harriet was the one he was in love with since everything he did seemed to revolve around her. But then came Oliver, the love of his life.

Once they started dating Percy found himself making room for Oliver in his life in a way he hadn’t done for any of his previous relationships. He didn’t just like Oliver. He needed him. Going a day without at least speaking to him made that day a little lesser. Oliver made Percy feel loved and contented and full of life and this is just what Percy told him when he proposed after a year of dating. Feeling the same for Percy Oliver had accepted with a smile and a kiss before answering properly and putting Percy’s nerves to rest.

Their life together was good. Happier and more gratifying than anything Percy ever expected for himself. The only thing that could make it better was to make it bigger. They both went into the marriage wanting children but with The Convergence looming on the horizon they had decided to put it off. Not only did the preparations require much of Percy’s attention and extra hours at work but with so much unknown about what the event might actually bring they preferred to approach it without a little life to worry about. Percy would have to stay in England when The Convergence actually happened while their was already a mandatory evacuation to happen of minors out of the country. If they had a child of their own Oliver would have to leave with them. Without a child they could stay together through whatever happened, and that is what they wanted. They were only in their thirties. Children could wait. Besides, Fleur and Bill had given the family three beautiful children to dote on until then and Oliver was still hoping to make it to the Quidditch World Cup before he retired. With the way the season was going, it looked like they might actually do it this time.

Smiling Percy put down the paper to focus on his work but made a mental note to write Rita and ask for a print of the picture from the front page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not happy with how this chapter has turned out. It’s not what I wanted it to be but with my current health and life stressors it’s the best I could do and I don’t hate it. I just don’t feel it was my best. I do however hope you all were happy to see that Percy is still a part of Harriet’s life and to have found out a bit of what has happened in the intervening years. I’d really love to hear your thoughts.


	4. A Morning Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harriet’s most trusted allies come round for the morning meeting.

The chime for the front door went off alerting the arrival of three new guests.

Together Percy, Denise, and Dobby had been able to get Harriet to begin eating while they discussed the relevant matters of the day. As he had already eaten Percy left the others to their meals to go see to the arrivals himself.

Waiting impatiently on the other side of the door was a heavily pregnant Parvati flanked on one side by her sister and the other by her husband, both of who were laden down with a collection of packages and bags.

Pulling his pocket watch out Percy gave the time a glance before leveling a pointed look on the trio.

Parvati waved her hand at him. “Yes, yes, we’re early and it’s going to throw off the sacred schedule but I’m pregnant, haven’t slept all night for the kicking of my organs, and I have to pee so move out of my way.”

Fighting to appear severe Percy did as instructed, stepping to the side to allow the expectant mother to pass. Immediately she made a beeline for the lavatory.

“Sorry about this,” Dean said as he too moved past heading for the nearest desk. After loading himself of his burden he turned back to Percy. “She’s too tired to think. Been second guessing herself and changing plans all morning.”

“The hormones probably aren’t helping,” Padma added as she passed to put down her own burden of bags and boxes.

“You may be able to say that but I can’t,” Dean told his sister-in-law before turning back to Percy. He smiled apologetically. “The only thing for it was to come early and let her put it all before Harriet to be settled.”

“…That might not be such a bad thing,” Percy admitted. “Harriet could use being distracted with some lighter matters.”

“Has something happened,” Padma asked.

“It’s not even gone eight yet and already there’s trouble?” Dean lamented.

Judging by the lack of decorum and the bags under his eyes Percy felt it was safe to assume Padma’s being kept awake had led to a sleepless night for Dean as well.

As they waited on Parvati’s return Percy filled the pair in on the attempted break-in. As they were both Harriet’s legal advisers he did not have to worry about censoring the facts in this matter.

After graduating from Hogwarts Padma had pursued a career in Wizarding Law while Dean returned to the Muggle world to continue his education on that side eventually achieving a Law degree. While Harriet and her organizations had dozens of legal representatives in the magical world and more than that in the muggle it was these two she trusted most and so it was these two who helped to carry the burden of legal affairs, overseeing matters on Harriet’s behalf.

When Parvati returned from the lavatory she ignored them entirely heading straight for Harriet’s office. With barely a pause for a cursory knock on the door she let herself inside.

“Good morning Parvati,” Harriet greeted unfazed by her friend and business partner’s arrival. With a smile she finished handing her empty dishes off to Wonder, Winky and Kibble’s first and for the time being only child. The exuberant young house elf beamed before heading off to get Dobby’s plate.

“Hello’s Misses Parvati Tomas,” Wonder greeted with all her usual child like charm as she walked past Parvati.

“Hello little one,” Parvati greeted with a quick forced smile before lowering herself into a chair.

Having gotten Dobby’s plate Wonder moved on to get Denise’s. With that collected she turned to Harriet to ask, “Should I be telling mama to send up a tea service?”

Harriet smiled at her fondly. “That would be lovely Wonder, thank you.”

With a happy nod of her head Wonder popped off taking all but one of the dishes along with her. Thankfully Harriet, Percy, and Denise all were prepared and sent a hovering charm at the plate to stop it crashing. Popping back now empty-handed Wonder glared at the dish, personally offended to find it had stayed behind. With her eyes still locked on it she informed Harriet, “Tea will be coming,” before, still glaring, she took the plate in hand and popped away. They were all prepared to catch it again if she should fail to bring it along but thankful it wasn’t a problem.

“It looks like she’s finally getting the hang of it,” Parvati acknowledged.

“She’s wonderfully stubborn,” Harriet answered diplomatically.

Denise snorted at the descriptor.

They were very grateful that Wonder’s persistent efforts to improve in her abilities to apparate were finally yielding improvement. She’d had much trouble with it as she learned but refused to give up or accept any help. When Wonder got it in her mind to do something she could not be deterred. They’d bared all they could of the little one breaking down into heaving tears after one too many failed attempts and were happy those days were behind them. House elves’ aversion to failure was worse than a flock of Ravenclaws or for that matter Hermione gearing up for exams.

Sitting behind her desk Harriet took in Parvati with concern. As always she was immaculate, with flawless make up and impeccable tailoring but even Percy could see by the way he held herself that Parvati was uncomfortable. 

“Are the twins giving you trouble,” Harriet asked.

Parvati frown down at her protruding stomach even as she cradled it lovingly. “Constantly these days. I really don’t know how Lavender’s gone through this three times now and still wants more. One and done I tell you. I’ll take my bogo special delivery and then no more.”

“Fine by me,” Dean declared coming to her side to kiss his wife’s cheek.

“It better be,” Parvati grumbled but there was fondness in her eyes and a smile threatening at the corner of her lips.

“Weren’t there some things you wanted to show Harriet,” Padma hinted bringing in some of what they had brought.

Nodding Parvati turned her focus on the work. The distraction allowed some of the tension she was carrying to fade away.

After Voldemort’s defeat Harriet’s new rise to further heights of fame led to uncomfortable levels of attention whenever she ventured out into public. Not wanting to deal with the crowds she’d asked Hermione to pick up her school things for her. As Hermione went to that year to Diagon with Lavender and the Patil twins they happily stepped in to help with the shopping. Percy wasn’t completely clear on how this had developed into Parvati becoming Harriet’s person shopper and stylist but that’s how things were by the time graduation came.

Her connection to Harriet helped Parvati to get a job at Witch Weekly Magazine and soon after a column of her own. It wasn’t long however before it wasn’t enough for Parvati. She decided she wanted to make things of her own. With a sound bussiness proposal Parvati approached Harriet about opening a beauty line with plans for expansion in the future and Harriet accepted. Harriet provided money and her name while Parvati took care lead on running the business. Under her vision they’d successfully expanded from beauty to accessories to clothes and far beyond in the years since.

Normally the two business partners were in agreement about things. When Parvati wanted to buy up the rights to Skeekeazy for the publicity Harriet manufacturing a potion her Grandfather invented for the launch of their beauty line Harriet approved. When Parvati wanted to bring hats back into style Harriet obediently wore a hat whenever going out. When Parvati wanted to open a shop that would sell muggle fashions that were enchanted to magical standards Harriet supported her and dutifully did her part for the publicity. The only thing Percy had ever known them to argue on was Harriet’s hair.

Parvati desperately wanted shorter simple hair styles to take over the wizarding fashion but she knew it wouldn’t happen so long as Harriet kept her hair long and was constantly styling it in complicated ways which required length to replicate but Harriet would not budge. She liked to keep her hair long and would not change it.

“Just to the shoulder,” Parvati would plead. 

To comfort her despondent partner Harriet would say, “Think of all the hair product sales we’d be missing out on if people cut their hair.”

For almost a decade of business that wasn’t an impressive track record of understanding.

Dobby stayed behind to watch as Parvati occupying Harriet’s time with swatches, packaging designs, fittings, and all manor of other business Percy and Denise retired to the assistants’ office while Padma and Dean went off to other parts of the house to see to their own work until the rest arrived for the morning meeting.

At nine the house chimed alerting them of another group of arrivals, this time in the floo room.

“Right on schedule,” Denise said heading for the door to let them in.

“Good morning Denise. Percy,” John Potter greeted, smiling with his usual charm as he passed them on the way to Harriet’s office in all his usual glory.

Like Harriet John stood heads above most of the people around him but it wasn’t just his height that was intimidating. John had an air about him that both drew you in while making you feel as though he was someone you had to look up to, not just physically. Much like Parvati he was always impeccably dressed to present himself. It was the two of them together that had taught Harriet to have the same level of care in her appearance and how she presented herself to the world.

On John’s arm was a resentful Hedwig, displeased as she was every morning with her travels through the floo network from John’s estate to get to Harriet. Unfortunately for her Harriet just wasn’t willing to let her fly around to and from London on her own.

From behind John came his personal assistants, the other side of the coin to Percy and Denise in working to keep the Potter affairs organized and their lives running as smoothly as they could. 

The first was Gabrielle Delacour, Percy’s family through Fluer and her marriage to Bill. For years John had been making do on his own or borrowing Percy’s services but once he retired from the aurors in order to help Harriet with her affairs full time it became clear he would need at least one personal assistant of his own. With Fleur pregnant with her first at the time Gabrielle was looking to move to England to be closer to her sister and future niece. When John finally admitted to needing help Percy had Gabrielle’s resume ready to present to him. 

Gabrielle had been with them since. She was capable, she was responsible, and she was more than wiling to use her Veela charms to their advantage. All things John greatly appreciated. As a Beauxbatons’ student and a French pureblood Gabrielle had an education that stressed decorum and edict, diplomacy, debate, and very importantly to their work languages. Percy had given up on keeping track of just how many languages Gabrielle dabbled in.

When John went looking for a second assistant he found two.

Tracey Davis was the first. Having a muggle father who was a business man himself Tracey had an understanding of the Muggle world which the rest of them lacked. While Denise was muggle raised her upbringing had done nothing to teach her about big business. Tracey was dedicated to the work and had proven that Slytherin ambition could be an admirable thing. While at first Percy hadn’t been sure they could trust her at the level needed he’d come to be glad that John had hired her. His second hiring Percy couldn’t say the same for.

Percy did not like, did not trust, and did not enjoy working with Blaise Zabini. Completely setting aside his ‘family fortune’ and how his mother had gone about accumulating it, in Percy’s opinion Zabini was arrogant, condescending, rude, and worst of all in Percy’s professional view the man was not at all proactive. He would do as he was ordered but he never took the initiative to go beyond it the way the rest of them did. Percy spent some months hoping John would fire Zabini but as years past Percy had given up hope. For some reason John found Zabini worth keeping around and so begrudgingly they’d had to adapt to that reality. 

The one thing Percy could say for Blaise was that he respected his employer and Harriet. Despite his behavior with everyone else he was always respectful of those two. And because of his personality they could always use sending him to deal with a matter as a punishment for anyone who was being difficult.

As Harriet worked hard to appear neutral in public she rarely showed her true feelings outside of secure spaces. No one was ever treated with particular like or dislike but for those in the know and the elite or ambitious of the wizarding world had worked hard to be aware of this secret language. The biggest tell to knowing Harriet’s and John’s current feelings for a person was which assistant was the one making contact on their behalf. It it was Blaise, they were not please. If it was Percy more than likely they weren’t favored as in truth he was not the most charismatic either and was willing to play hardball on Harriet’s behalf. If it was Tracey or Denise they were in their good standing. Gabrielle was a mixed bag. She was sent to those that needed charming or to be made to feel important.

They all had their specialties in the office.

With John, Harriet, and Parvati occupied Percy closed the doors sealing them off for privacy.

“Good morning,” Denise asked the other assistants.

Blaise sneered but did not bother to lift his face from his sorting through the mail Dobby had left on his desk. “What do you think?”

Denise with practice ease ignored him.

As Gabrielle was hastily penning a response to a letter of her own Tracey was the one to answer.

“The boss isn’t in a great mood. First we got word of the break in.”

“Attempted,” Percy corrected.

To which Tracey rolled her eyes and otherwise ignored him while continuing. “Then it there was a notice that we’re having trouble getting the property we were counting on for the new Sanctuary, an attempt at blackmailing one of ours, a break down in the Rings negotiation, and the peace da resistance-” Gabrielle sent her a look for Tracey’s butchering of her native tongue- “word came that Stark is on schedule to bring the arc reactor online tonight.”

Percy frowned. He wasn’t Stark's biggest fan. None of them were. For years Harriet and John had been trying to covertly work through others to bring the muggle world around to sustainable living. They had Stark approached multiple times to see if he would consult on projects, lending that massive intellect of his towards the good but his massive ego meant he was never willing work on projects where the credit would be divided amongst many and the work would help to build up a company outside his own. Even when Stark Industries removed him as CEO he hadn’t been willing to hear a word about it. But once it was known he was Iron Man and he thought he was dying? Then he was all ready to play nice, just so long as it was in his name, building up his legacy.

Mister Stark had proven since coming out as Iron Man just how much good he could do. They were all just a little resentful that it took him this long to get around to it.

“That’s our news. What about yours,” Tracey asked. Denise was quick to catch her up and as she did they all proceeded on with their other work.

Just before half past nine the chime for the floo rang out signaling the first the arrivals for the morning meeting. While the others went off to prepare the conference room Percy went to take his station by the floo room.

Sirius was the first to arrive. His time at Azkaban had gone a long way towards aging him prematurely but his happiness since his name was cleared seemed to stall the hands of time. That there was usually a smile on his face and laughter in his eyes helped awfully much.

“Morning Percy,” he greeted, patting Percy on the shoulder as he passed. “Caught the game on the wireless last night. Had me on the edge of my seat. I imagine the energy was even worse at the stadium.”

Percy couldn’t help but to smile with pride. “Yes. The weather was so poor that a good deal of the time we didn’t know what was happening until the announcer informed us despite being there.”

Sirius laughed. “Harriet in her office?”

Percy nodded his head to the door in answer signaling that Sirius was free to go in.

“Thanks. In case I forget to say so later, pass my congratulations on to that husband of yours,” Sirius instructed giving Percy’s shoulder another squeeze before heading off to visit with his goddaughter before the meeting.

Sirius hadn’t yet made it through the door when the chime signaled the next arrival.

Prompt as always had arrived Hermione. 

Like Percy she had pursued a career at the Ministry directly out of Hogwarts and quickly became disheartened with the work. It was clear to her that the bulk of the changes for the betterment of the magical world were coming from outside the government and her position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was not the place to bring about the change she wanted. She stuck with the job long enough to see the Department for the Protection of Elvish Welfare firmly established before putting in her resignation. After four long years she was free and Harriet wasted no time snatching her friend up. She created a position for Hermione which was unassumingly named Head of Research and Records.

People may have joked during their school years that Hermione always had her noise in a book but as an adult it was often the case. Thanks to her mastery of Occlumency Hermione’s already impressive retention, comprehension, and recall had reached near perfect levels. Taking advantage of this Hermione consumed everything she could get her hands on, which was essentially her job. Harriet paid her to read every report that went through their hands, every bit of research, books and tomes from all over the world, and to keep it all in her head so that when they needed to know if something was known she could quickly tell them. It was also her job to oversee the physical storage of this knowledge.

After only being out of the floo for seconds she already had a file open in her hands for her eyes to track over. Hearing the door she looked up from the file.

“Morning Percy,” she greeted, moving quickly out of the floo room so Percy could shut the door, allowing the protections of the house to engage opening the floo to further use. “Has there been any word on the break in?”

“None yet,” Percy informed her.

Resigned Hermione nodded before looking back down at the file in her hands while heading off for the conference room.

She was only just out of Percy’s sight when the chime for the floo went off again.

Opening the way to his former professor Percy greeted the man respectfully with a bow of his head. “Mr Snape.”

“Mr Weasley,” he received in reply with a mirrored bow of the head. As was his way Snape chose not to engage in any further pleasantries and instead headed for the stairs.

Initially it had been as hard for Percy as the majority of Snape’s other former students to believe he was a thoughtful mentor who protected Harriet and trained her to be able to defend herself so that when the time came for her to stand against the Dark Lord, she not only held her own but won. Sometimes it was still hard for Percy to agree. With most Snape was just the same as he’d always been. The only exceptions Percy knew of were the Malfoys, John, and Harriet. When Snape interacted one on one with any of these Percy could see a hint of the man which made Harriet smile with fondness when his name was brought up.

After Dumbledore died the only thing keeping Snape at Hogwarts was Harriet. He stayed continuing her tutoring until she graduated. Then h retired to begin a new chapter of his life studying potions for the purpose of improving existing brews as well as inventing new creation of his own. A specific interest of his was werewolves and finding a cure or at least a way of neutralizing the threat they posed on the full moon.

During the time he was working towards this Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes had been booming however the trill of being successful business owners had worn off for the twins. Due to protecting their recipes and some outdated wizarding laws the twins had to manufacture many of their products themselves. With the products constantly in high demand and the necessities of running the business themselves this left Fred and George little time for anything else including inventing and passion projects. With every passing month stuck in a regular routine that had long become boring for them they grew more frustrated and morose about their work.

Seeing they were speedily heading for a burn out Harriet stepped in. She was already looking into manufacturing for her business with Parvati which at the start was primarily potions based. With all of them working together they went about setting things up in a way that would best work for them. If there was an ingredient or material they needed that they could see to harvesting rather than waiting on suppliers to do it for them they did it themselves. They lobbied with the Ministry to see certain laws which restricted Masters and Craftsman from outsourcing elements of their production. They hired competent potioneers and charm experts who were sworn to secrecy and taught how to create what was needed. Then, at Harriet’s insistence Fred and George hired others to take over the day to day hassles of running the business.

They set it up so perfectly that when the time came they all took a step back and everything went smoothly. It had been hard for the twins to give up control but as far as Percy knew they never regretted it as it finally gave them time to create again.

It was not long after this was done that Snape managed his first major break through. The potion he created was an improvement on Wolfbane Potion which allowed the werewolf to retain their human consciousness through the shift while greatly easing the burden of the transformation. What was most exciting about the potion was that it only needed to be taken once a month. Once a month at any point after the last full moon and the werewolf was assured control. The problem with the potion was the finickiness of it. If not brew absolutely perfectly the potion still allowed the werewolf to retain their human awareness but the werewolf aggression would still be present and multiplied. 

With the dangers that could ensue from a single ill-brewed batch Severus was not willing to release the recipe to the general public as intended. He needed the potion to be brewed under the supervision of the best to assure control. He could have spent his life brewing and selling the potion himself but much like the twins he would have been chained to this work and that was not what he wanted. He turned to Harriet for help in the manufacturing and distribution process. Help she readily gave.

Hearing about his recipe the twins took an immediate interest. From this an unexpected but productive working relationship bloomed. Working together Fred, George, and Snape created a cure for werewolves within a year and had since gone on to do many extraordinary things by combining Snape’s orderly genius with the twins own more whimsical style of invention.

It was their working together that inspired Harriet to start up an initiative for collaboration among the great minds of the Magical World. More often than not these people spent their lives locked away in their own spaces hoarding the secrets of their discoveries for themselves. It was Harriet’s goal to break this mold. She worked hard to bring people, knowledge, and magics together from all over the world in the name of working together to bring about innovation, new discoveries, and the recovery of methods and techniques that had been lost to time. Snape, the twins, and many others played a large roll in these efforts and the projects that spawned from them. This accomplishment of successfully bringing these people together with each other and the resources they needed was Harriet’s greatest pride. 

It was one of the campuses for this work which had been targeted the night before.

A minute after Snape’s arrive came Fred but Percy kept him waiting until George had come through as well. Both were a mess showing they had come straight from the labs.

“Percy,” they greeted happily, pulling him in for a hug and spreading their mess onto his clean outter robes.

Rolling his eyes Percy hugged them back but once he was released he drew his wand intending to banish himself and the twins clean. The effect was that rather than vanishing the mess which had previously been a rather dull mix of neutral colors became of mess of bright neons and sparkles.

“Whoops,” George said with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Sorry there Percy,” Fred said playing innocent.

“We should have warned you about that,” they chorused.

Percy scowled down at his previously predestine robes then up at the menaces that were his brothers. He and many others had hoped like troublesome puppies their rambunctiousness and mischievous nature would lessen with age. Reportedly it had done for Remus and Sirius but unfortunately Percy had yet to noticed a marked change in the twins. 

Striping off his robes Percy asked with strained patience, “How do I get it off?”

“Honestly,” George asked.

Percy gave him a pointed look. “Obviously.”

The pair shrugged. “We don’t know yet.”

Their innocent expressions broke into devilish smiles at Percy’s gawking expression.

Before he could tell them off for bringing such a contaminate into the office and more importantly purposely getting it on him the chime from the chime went off alert one then a second new arrival. Holding off on his rant Percy reflexively prioritized seeing who had arrived. Taking advantage of his distraction the twins made their escape.

Scowling in the direction they had gone Percy called after them, “Turn your robes inside out this instant or I will retaliate,” before composing himself. Draping his soiled robe over his arm he turned to see to the door.

One the other side Luna and Neville met him with a smile.

The pair, many years married, headed conservation efforts as well as being leaders in the forces training to deal with the Convergence and the possible new arrivals and environmental fall outs that might follow. With Neville’s expertise as a Herbologist and Luna’s as a Magizoologist and seer the two made a brilliant pair out in the field. They were quite famous as leaders in their respective fields but despite that had managed to keep their humble natures in tact which helped to draw others of talent in to work for them. 

The bulk of their time was spent traveling the world and very rarely were they in town to attend meetings in person, usually having to call in by mirror from whatever far flung location they found themselves. They had arrived back in England a week prior for Neville’s grandmother’s birthday and were staying to see to the establishing of the new Sanctuary. Thanks to advancements in dragon care the Welsh Preserve in was close to having more Welsh Greens then they could handle. They were buying up land to create a space where they could resettle some of the dragons too as well as a few other magical plant species who’s numbers in the wild they were hoping to grow.

“Hello Percy,” Luna greeted in her usually dreamy way. Her eyes were locked not on him but on something just over his shoulder.

Imagining just what she might be seeing that he could not Percy had to fight to hold back a shiver. Forcing a smile he returned. “Good morning Luna, Neville.”

“Sorry we’re running a bit late,” Neville apologized with a smile which became a grimace flashing over his face. “We visited Trelawney for breakfast and things ran on a bit long.”

As they walked past Neville reached up to tap at his own chin while looking at Percy’s. “Do you know you have something, just there?”

Shutting the door to the floo room Percy walked over to a near by mirror. He frowned at the smear on his clean shaven skin. At least it wasn’t as vibrant as the mess he’d tried to vanish from his robes. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and explained, “The twins.”

Neville nodded in understanding while Luna smiled at the opening doors to Harriet’s office.

“Luna.” Harriet smile with an exuberance she would never let herself show in public. “Neville.”

She moved to the pair to pull them in for a hug while Sirius, Tom, Parvati, and Dobby filed out of her office. While most of the group entered into conversation Dobby accepted his greetings from the pair of new arrivals before collecting the mail from the assistants desks and heading off to deliver them.

Over at the mirror Percy could see his handkerchief had very minimal success in removing the stain to his face despite becoming considerably stained itself. Sighing, he folded the fabric in on itself before putting it in his robes which he rolled up as well. Grabbing some paper from his desk he charmed it to grow in size so he might wrap his robe up. Marking it to be left alone he placed the parcel in the closet where he grabbed a new robe as well as a new handkerchief.

“Has everyone arrived,” Harriet asked.

“We’re still waiting on Ron,” Percy informed her. Looking at the clock it showed they were a minute on from when the meeting was due to start.

Harriet looked concerned. “What for him will you,” she requested. Not an order but a request. Very rarely did Harriet give him actual orders. Percy was always free to decline. He very rarely ever did.

“Of course,” he answered.

He received a smile of graduated from Harriet before she followed the others up the stairs to the conference room.

Seventeen minutes later Ron arrived through the floo.

Percy was pointedly looking at his pocket watch as he opened the door.

Sighing in exasperation his littlest brother ran a hand through his hair as he worked to tidy himself up. “I know. I know but the aurors were being difficult. They don’t like being restricted. They’re used to having free rein to traipse about as they like. Kept dragging their feet about things until Tonks finally showed up.”

Rolling his eyes Percy stopped Ron to fix his brother’s tie and straighten his suit before they headed up. Overall Percy was very proud of his Ron but every so often some of his less than commendable traits would peak through a crack in his finish. Like sloppiness in his appearance or a bit of hypocrisy.

Not so long ago Ron had been one of those aurors who didn’t like being told no or having restrictions put on his investigations. He probably still would be to if he hadn’t found out Harriet was looking to hire a Head of Security. Ron was proud to be an auror and had plans to succeed Kingsley as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The odds were it would have happened too. He’d been a star of the force, noted for his magical knowledge and ability as well as his dueling skills. But having a chance to do similar work while getting to be around his best friends again was tempting enough to motivate Ron to give up on those aspirations. That the pay and benefits were miles better, he got to see to it for himself that Harriet and the others were looked after, and he’d gotten to start as a Head helped to ease any misgivings Ron had about retiring.

It wasn’t just favoritism that won Ron the job. Harriet had a habit of hiring friends she had known since her younger years as it was easier for her to trust them but she never put anyone in a position they weren’t entirely competent to handle. Ron did a beautiful job as Harriet’s head of security. 

With Harriet out of school for the rest of their fifth year after Voldemort’s defeat Ron stepped up in a vital way to take over in leading of the DA with Hermione and in the following year when the DA went public as the Defense Association, a club opened to all the school Ron continued as a leader of the group. He had done so well as a teacher that McGonagall encouraged him to consider becoming a Defense Professor when he eventually chose to retire from being an auror. Perhaps one day Ron would take her advice but for the last several years his skill as a teacher were used to train those who worked under him. The program he put them through impressed even Moody.

Ron was able to train some of the best because he was one of the best himself. That was part of why the aurors gave him so much trouble when he had to work with them. Harriet confessed to Percy that they resented Ron leaving for the private sector both for the feeling of abandonment and jealousy that they weren’t in his place. With Moody retired the only one Ron ran into on the field that didn’t give him grief was Tonks.

“I was worried if it went on for another ten minutes Ginny would fall back on bad habits, hit them with a bat-bogey hex.” Ron sounded frustrated which Percy understood.

During the previous Quidditch season there had been a freak accident during tryouts that Ginny got caught in the crossfires of. It was a very close call. Had things gone a little differently the family would have been gathered around her grave rather than her bedside. It was enough for Ginny to decide it was time to retire. As she put it she didn’t want to risk her life for a sport when there were more import things to risk it for. 

After negotiating out of her contract Ginny planned on signing up to be an auror but was persuaded to join Harriet instead. At first things had been going well but then there started to be some behavioral issues. Ginny was older than most of the other recruits. She was also familiar with many of her superiors having interacted with and even trained with them in the past as many were former DA members. After Harriet Ginny had been the best in the DA. Some of the feelings from that carried over. Ginny was good, very good. Because of that she felt she was too good for basics and working her way up. In some ways she was right as her skills did put her above others but in experience she was lacking. The restlessness in not meeting her full potential was getting to Ginny. Her restlessness had gotten to her supervisors who had handed her up to Ron to be his personal problem.

Ron sighed. “She’s brilliant. Takes to everything but protocol like a champ but she’s managed to clear herself for field duty,” Ron announced with a frown.

Together they made their way up the stairs.

Percy hesitated. “Do you think she’s ready for that?”

Ron frowned harder. “It wasn’t my call to make. Conflict of interest and all that.”

‘That is a no then,’ Percy thought. 

As they reached the landing Percy called, “Winky.”

The house elf appeared. “Yes Mister Percy sir?”

“If you could keep an eye on door and let us know should anyone arrive?”

“Of course Mister Percy sir,” Winky told him before popping away. 

With that taken care of Percy led Ron to the conference room door.

Giving a perfunctory knock Percy waited to be called in before opening the door to allow Ron through and then himself.

Conversation around the round table which dominated the space died as attentions turned on them.

John was the first to speak. “Ron. Any news?”

Nodding and smiling to the various people in the room Ron answered while making his way to his seat. “Not the kind you're hoping for. Whoever it was not only knew how to keep from being captured and to stay untraceable by seers but they also knew how to cover their physical tracks. Not a single impression or fiber found. The only good news I can report is the aurors are gone and control of the area is ours again. I’ve got the scene secured until you order its release. When your ready to check it out yourself you’ll be able to without getting pestered for an autograph,” he teased Harriet.

“Thank you Ron,” Harriet told him sincerely.

He nodded. “They wanted to know if we had any suspicions. I gave them the usual spiel about anyone out to make a buck. I lied, said we’d let them know if anything raises flags but I definitely had a name in mind that I kept off my tongue.”

Harriet’s smile dropped and tension spread through the inhabitants of the room.

Looking around the table Ron declared, “I don’t think I have to say the name as I’m pretty sure you all’re thinking the same.”

He was right but they were all hesitant to agree. All but John. “No, I don’t believe you do.”

Hesitantly everyone around the table nodded.

“We don’t know it was them,” Harriet said with authority, “and so long as we are without evidence I would prefer we not go naming names.”

John was giving Harriet a look at her declaration but it was Ron who spoke up against her assertion. “Oh come on Harriet.”

She gave him a firm look but between his bullheadedness and years of friendship he was immune to it.

Ron shook his head. “Wakandans. It was the Wakandans and we all know it even if we can’t prove it.”

Harriet’s lips pursed. “Ron,” she said warningly.

Leaning forward on the table Ron pleaded the case.

“They have an appointment scheduled with you for today and yet despite their usual routine being to deliver their King onto foreign soil only hours ahead of such meeting, they showed up yesterday with not only the King and his usually contingent of Dora Milaje but also the Prince. The Prince who in all likelihood is the latest Black Panther who if the reality matches the myth, would certainly be capable of attempting a break in with the skill we saw last night. Who else would have the motive and means of hiding themselves so well even you can’t get a feel of them.”

For a moment tension the tension built between them as they stared each other down before Harriet spoke.

“You do realize where you’re sitting don’t you,” she challenged. 

Ron flexed his jaw.

“This house is hidden completely even from my eyes when I’m not in it. We utilize these same protections on ourselves and all of our facilities. It is only thanks to these protections that someone would need to break into the campus in order to find out what is going on there rather than looking in from beyond. The knowledge and skill to do it may be rare but it is not unknown. Yes, the Wakandans hide themselves from sight but so do we and so too could others.”

With Ron and Harriet still staring each other down Ron delivered his counter argument. “The Wakandans have literally built their Kingdom on vibranium. The foundation of their entire peoples depends on it and for the first time there is a threat to that monopoly and the protections it offers. We are studying it. We’re creating an interest in it and with that interest comes an interest in them. If I was their Head of Secrecy, I’d rightly be worried about loosing that advantage. I’d want to know just how far our research is coming.”

He had a point. When Percy had heard about the break in his first thought had been the Wakandans for those very reasons..

The Kingdom of Wakanda was seen by both the magical and muggle world as a small unimportant nation. The truth as Harriet had learned and revealed to them was far from that. 

The majority of the Wakandan nation was of magical blood. That was a population size nearly unheard of through out all of history but this impressive fact was overlooked and dismissed by the rest of the nations due to that fact that they were seen as no better than a collection of squibs.

Harriet’s interest in Wakanda had come about due to Severus and the twins need for vibranium. They were close to discovering their cure for lycanthropy but every result wasn’t quite right. They decided to experiment with using different types of cauldrons. Feeling they were on the right path Harriet acquired potions making sets made of a wide variety materials including one of vibranium. It had been ridiculously expensive to procure but as usual Harriet’s intuition proved correct. While the trio had learned interesting things from experimentation with all the sets they had found the cure from brewing with vibranium tools and unfortunately only true pure vibranium would do.

Eager to begin mass producing a cure Harriet reached out to Wakanda as the only supplier of vibranium to trade. She expected them to be eager given that the plight of lycanthropy was known through out the world but the Wakandans were not so willing as she had hoped. They were barely willing to part with any vibranium at all. At the time Harriet had believed the Wakanda propaganda that the metal was rare having been harvested from a small meteor which had crashed onto their lands a millennia ago. She had been understanding of its rarity and been willing to pay a fair price but still the Wakandans traded only enough for a few sets.

Desperate as they were for the precious material John talked Harriet into looking for a black-market arms dealer who was reported as having stolen a stock pile of vibranium. He suggested that turning the man over to the Wakandans could garner good faith and if a portion of the vibranium couldn’t be recovered and ended up in their potions lab it was a lose for the Wakandans that would save lives. Harriet didn’t care for the ethics of such a plan but with lives on the line she had been willing to set her morals aside.

In looking for Ulysses Klaue they found a lot more than vibranium.

The man had quite the tale to tell about vibranium and Wakanda and the truths of the nation. He did not know about their magic but he knew enough to point them in the direction of people who could give them answers.

As Ron said, Wakanda was built on vibranium and the Wakandas filled their lives with it. Traces of the alien metal could be found in their very blood, and this was the source of their being viewed as squibs. While its people held as much magic as any other wizarding nation those of Wakanda struggled if not finding it impossible to direct their magic out of their body no matter the foci used. This kept them from practicing the magics which were considered so integral to the magical communities through out most of the world. Because of this they were seen as inflicted and weak, to be pitied and ignored, and that is exactly what the isolationist nation wanted.

According to Harriet’s sources while it was true that Wakandan’s could not direct their magic outward it aided them in other ways. Among their population was an unprecedented number animgus, metamorphmagi, seers, creature speakers like parseltongues, and so many more gifts. Outside of these gifts Wakandans were stronger, more magic resistant, and of better constitutions than their cousins from other magical nations being immune to many of the diseases that were their most common killers including Lycanthropy.

Not only that but due to their inability to enact their magic on the environment around them Wakanda had continued to progress with technology in a way no other magical nation ever considered. They not only kept pace with the muggle but moved far ahead of what anyone dreamed the human race could yet to be capable.

If the reports were to believed it was remarkable what all they achieved.

Percy would have found it aspirational if not for the fact Wakanda kept it all to themselves. The fact that they had caused some resentment from even Harriet who usually did her best to be understanding. The fact that they knew the Wakandans had a surplus of vibranium but were still withholding was making Harriet start to see them as an adversary against the greater good.

The more they studied vibranium the more applications they were finding for how it could be used not just to better lives but to save and prolong them. Among other uses since the werewolf cure Severus, the twins, and those they work with had found a number of potions that could only be brew successfully in a vibranium cauldron with vibranium tools. The latest of which was the one that had Harriet most desperate for get them the supply of vibranium they desired.

The potion was jokingly being toted as a possible fountain of youth. That wasn’t so far off mark. Along with supporting good health the potion worked to slow the aging process. They couldn’t say exactly how far extended someone’s life might be but the estimate was decades for those already over one hundred years old and possibly a century or more for those under. Perhaps multiple centuries if started young enough. The catch was that the potion needed to be ingested daily for full effect. “Like a daily vitamin,” Denise had compared it to. 

With the brewing process taking over six months to brew they need needed far more cauldrons then they had if they ever hoped to supply even a fraction of the population with enough to see those extended years. According to Harriet’s sources Wakanda had more than enough to supply them with the cauldrons needed to create enough to supply all the world and more with a daily dose. They had shared the prospect of what this potion could do with the Wakandans and still they claimed not to have the supply of vibranium. Still they asked an extortionist’s price what small parcel of vibranium they were willing to part with.

Harriet was meant to meet with the King for last time today to finalize their latest agreement. An agreement that would allow them to make ten more potion making sets but no more. She intended to beg if she had to for even a single cauldrons more of vibranium but they weren’t hopeful it would yield results. And as neither transfiguration or alchemy were able to replicate vibranium properties in full they were forced to take the scraps that were offered.

What they would be getting was no where near enough to produce at the level needed to see the best effect of what the potion could do. At most it would allow them to increase their yield enough to move towards offering the elixir to help patients suffering from what were normally terminal diseases to stay strong enough to fight and survive their affliction. Unfortunately there would likely have to prioritize who was treated as their simply wouldn’t be enough. This would mean turning away those who might very well die without their help.

Looking around the table Harriet took in the faces of some of her most trusted before turning back to Ron.

“I’m not arguing with you,” she declared. Holding up a hand she stopped Ron from interrupting. “I’m not arguing because nothing you said is wrong. Do the Wakandans have the skill to pull off what happened last night? Absolutely. Do they have a possible motive? Yes. Should we consider them suspect? It would be foolish not to, but we can no place blame without evidence and we should not close our minds to other possibilities. It is entirely possible that knowing at least part of the puzzle someone not of Wakanda chose now to act hoping we would turn our attention to the wrong source. We cannot dismiss all other possibilities for the one that seems most likely. We live our lives with magic. Given that we are surrounded by evidence of the extraordinary every day we would be the greatest of ignorants to dismiss any possibility for being unlikely.”

Resigned, Ron nodded accepting her worlds.

“Now then,” Harriet said turning her attention back to the table as a whole. “Shall we continue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is another exposition heavy chapter but I swear it is the last one. The next chapter gets the plot going and the one after dives into the Avengers movie plot. Hopefully you all liked it and didn’t mind finding out some more of what everyone has been up to. I’m really anxious to hear what you thought of Wakanda. I know that maybe you all were hoping for friends but even T’Challa admits they weren’t in the right before staying to themselves and right now T’Chaka is in charge and isolation is the name of the game.
> 
> I am going to admit outright that I wasn’t sure of British terminology for the legal stuff regarding Padma and Dean which is why their work is not very well explained :( If anyone knows better and has some advice there I would appreciate it. 
> 
> Also on my computer this story is already over 70+ pages… how and when did that happen. I feel like I’ve barely written anything yet.


	5. The White Queen, The White Pawn, and Wakandan Royals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harriet meets with the King of Wakanda to talk Vibranium but his final word is not the final word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this when ill. I then put off editing until I would be feeling better only to get a bad sinus infection. According to my doctor it could be another week of this so I didn’t want to put it off anymore. If you are willing it to keep track of mistakes you find and leave them in the comments so I can correct them I would really appreciate it.

Standing at the window T’Challa looked down at the village of Little Hangleton which stretched out before him. The quaint place reminded him of the outer farm lands which his people left undeveloped both for appearance sake and to give those in the city a chance to retreat.

The village was one of Harriet Potter’s many pet projects. Since acquiring Riddle Manor Britain’s hero had been encouraging those who were magically aware to move into the village while gently manipulating the muggles to leave it for ‘greener pastures.’ The goal was simple. In several decades Miss Potter intended for the village to be a safe place for magicals to raise children while still being able to maintain a foot in the muggle world, something exclusively magical villages her Ministry was creating did not allow for. Miss Potter was dedicated enough to this plan that she was investing her own money to relocate those who were willing to move to the village but unable to afford it. A small but noticeable portion of those taking part in this venture were the non-magical families of muggle borns and half-bloods as they were aware of magic but not of the community and there for so deeply entrenched in the muggle world as to not draw unwanted attention at a glance. 

Involving such people in magical affairs was unthinkable in Wakanda.

In Wakanda magical and nonmagical were seen as equals though true squibs only made up a small portion of their population. Muggles were respected but unequivocally seen as other. There had not been a muggle in Wakanda for centuries. War dogs occasionally would find love with those they came into contact with while on missions in the outside world. The children of these matches were seen as Wakandans and welcomed to return to their lands but not their other parents and outside family. This was not because these parents lacked magic. It would be the same should a war dog choose to join with a magical. An outsider was an outsider. For the sake of secrecy it could not be allowed. Such was the declaration of the rules of the past, their word upheld as law by the current King, T’Challa’s father, T’Chaka.

When the debriefing regarding Miss Potter’s efforts in Little Hangleton were presented to the Wakandan council most were quick to admonish her and the British Ministry for the risk they put all magicals in by not only allowing outsiders to know of their people but for involving them in magical affairs. T’Challa noticed that despite his usual views on these matter T’Chaka remained quiet, letting the others speak while keeping his opinions to himself. 

When it came to his own views T’Challa found himself in conflict. He knew what tradition dictated and the law prohibited but Nakia’s arguments weighed on his mind. Since going out into the world as a War Dog Nakia’s views had fallen firmly out of alignment with tradition. She had become firmly opposed to the idea that they needed to remain isolated. It was her belief that they could provide a positive influence on the world both magical and muggle while still protecting their people and their way of life. Nakia believed supporting Miss Potter’s work to collaborate and learn from one another was a perfect opportunity to begin gently reintegrating. T’Challa’s father and the rest of the council unanimously disagreed. To them isolation was the only way that Wakanda could go on thriving.

Miss Potter and her efforts toward collaboration and invention were seen as the biggest threat to Wakanda’s security since Ulysses Klaue. Through means unknown the man had been able to breech their security, killing several of their own including W’Kabi’s parents before making off with a quarter-ton of vibranium and since their escape had inexplicably managed to evade their capture. The threat Miss Potter posed was without Klaue’s maliciousness, greed, or purposefulness but was no less concerning.

The muggles were years behind Wakanda in development. The likes of Tony Stark and Bruce Banner caused some stir but the limits of their technology meant the threat muggles held as a whole was seen as negligible. Their magicals cousins were another story. If the magical world as they were at that moment were to turn against Wakanda there was no doubt that the war to follow would be devastating on both sides, an end to secrecy, and possibly an end to Wakanda. Because of this it was a comfort to Wakanda that the rest of the magical world had long grown stagnate and lazy. Occasionally there would be a burst of development usually attributed to a single or handful of individuals but rarely was it sustained. The change Miss Potter orchestrated was not only sustaining itself but growing in speed. No longer were their cousin stagnate and while not their intention their innovation made them a greater threat to Wakanda. That alone had given them reason to sit up and take attention. That the research Miss Potter was sponsoring had now led to an interest in vibranium was caused interest to transform into alarm.

Wakanda’s isolation kept them from conflict. In keeping from conflict they were able to thrive. During their centuries of peace Wakanda invested in themselves rather than war help each of their citizens to become their best through education, training, and care. This along with the advantages their monopoly on vibranium provided them both magically and technologically allowed them to prosper beyond what was believed to be the limits of humankind. If the magical world learned the value of vibranium and came to covet it Wakanda would be entering a new and uncertain age of interest in their Kingdom which would threaten their secrecy. Worse if the rest of the world got their hands on vibranium Wakanda could quickly loose what advantage they had. King T’Chaka was determined this not happen.

Miss Potter did not want their vibranium to make weapons. She wanted the vibranium to make a life saving potions and find other means of bettering life for all people, but cauldrons could easily be melted down into weapons and so the King would not be accepting her proposal.

They could have declined from home. They did not need to pay Miss Potter the courtesy of turning her down in person, they did not need to send royalty to do it, but the opportunity to meet her in person and get measure of ‘Britain’s guiding light’ was an opportunity T’Chaka was disinclined to let pass. As for T’Challa, the purposes for his father bringing him on this visit were less than honorable. 

The plan had been for the Black Panther to infiltrate one of Miss Potter’s facilities in the hopes of discovering just how much her people had uncovered regarding the true extent of vibranium’s use. However T’Challa had only gotten close enough to see the buildings of the campus the distance before triggering a security measure which alerted guards to his location. He left then as he had no interest in engaging the guards as stealth was the priority of his visit.

After his failed attempt T’Challa spent his night leaving a false trail leading back to France before returning to England to report to his father and stand by his side for their meeting that day in the former Manor house.

From the outside it appeared that the manor had fallen into disrepair having been abandoned. It was T’Challa’s understanding that the manor had once belonged to a family known as the Riddles, the patriarchal ancestors of the late Tom Riddle, known formally to the world as the self declared Lord Voldemort. After acquiring the manor Miss Potter arranged to ensure it would appear unchanged from the outside before remodeling the interior into a hotel where she could house guests who came from other lands to visit her ministry, herself, or to work at one of her campuses. Eventually when the village was secured the manor would be made into a hotel on the muggle side as well allowing magicals a secure place to stay while still remaining on the muggle radar.

For this visit their party had been given exclusive domain of the hotel with all other guests relocated making the hotel staff the only ones present who were not Wakandan. Despite the presentation of privacy and security all of their people had remained cautious of what they showed here. That tension was taking its toll, mounting the stress of T’Challa’s failure and what was at stake. They were all eager to return home.

“My Prince. My King,” Okoye said calling T’Challa’s attention back to the dining room and a grand room it was with its tall enchanted ceiling, grand fixtures, and towering windows which made the space appear even larger still for the perceived openness to the outside.

Normally the dinning room of the hotel was open to the public but for their visit this had been changed. Until they left the dinning room was closed to outside service but this did not stop them operating as they normally would. In the day a buffet was put out and added to as the hours passed with the seating varied and arranged in more casual manor. Come night the buffet went away and the space was transformed into a fine dinning experience. Some of their people complained about the food on offer but T’Challa enjoyed the new experiences and enjoyed it all the more for Shrui’s whining when he reported to her about their day and all she was missing out on for having not been allowed to come. As much as he teased T'Challa had already arranged with the kitchen staff that a large create of their specialities be packaged and preserved to be brought home to his sister and mother. It would not completely stop Shuri from complaining on missing out but it would help.

“Harriet Potter and her party have arrived,” Okoye reported.

“And who is with her,” the King asked as he rose from his seat at the low square table they had claimed while T’Challa moved to stand at his father side. Around them and around the room the Dora Milage and King’s Guard were dispersed, positioned to try to appear at ease.

“She brought no guards,” Okoye declared with a slight frown. “Her cousin is absent from her side but two of his assistants come in his place, and one of Harriet’s is present as well. They are being screened by our guards now.”

“Which assistants,” the King asked.

“Harriet Potter’s Head Percy Weasley, John Potter’s Head Gabrielle Delacour, and one Blaise Zabini.”

T’Chaka made a considering noise.

According to their intelligence that meant Miss Potter was coming into these negotiations believing there would be no easy deal forthcoming.

“Where is her cousin?”

“That is unknown my King.”

There had been no declarations that John Potter would attend this meeting but given his reputation for protectiveness over Miss Potter and how important this deal was to his cousin they had expected him to be.

Through the large double doors at the entrance to the Dinning Room came Miss Potter and her party led by a pair of Dora Milage. Despite standing as tall as M’Baku Miss Potter’s presence lacked the intimidation the Leader of the Jaban Tribe impacted on those around him. As they expected from her due to reports and images Harriet Potter in her exuded calm with a welcoming smile that seemed not an act but genuine.

Miss Potter allowed her party to be led through the room before stopping a polite distance away to be introduced.

“My Prince. My King. I present Harriet Potter, Percy Weasley, Gabrielle Delacour, and Blaise Zabini,” the gaurd announced.

“Miss Potter,” T’Chaka greeted with a small smile and a nod of his head.

“Your majesty,” Miss Potter returned her smile temporarily stretching father as she returned the bow of her head and presented the same to T’Challa. “Prince T’Challa.”

Greetings out of the way her smile settled back into its easy up turn. Gesturing at the table by which they had been waiting she asked, “May we?”

“Of course,” the King allowed.

Rather than seating herself across from them they had expected Miss Potter sat herself at the center seat of three on the side of the table to their right leaving one empty seat and T’Challa between herself and the King. Her assistant, Mister Weasley took the seat to her left and her cousins two took the seats at the table across from T’Challa and his father. 

Wanting to be close to act should things were to go wrong three of their King’s guard came forward to take the seats on the empty side of the table.

Not wasting time on small talk Miss Potter broached the reason for their meeting. “Dare I hope the reason for you're coming personally all this way is that you are considering accepting our proposal?”

“Unfortunately not,” T’Chaka declined, showing only a hint of regret in his tone. “We came as we wished to show you the respect of explaining in person why we must decline your generous proposal.”

Miss Potter’s face dropped though she fought off showing her disappointment. “Oh.”

“Vibranium is more than a simple commodity to our people. It is a fountain of our history. To part with the sum you are requesting would be too much,” the King explained being careful with his words. All their people walked wrapped in protections against a Seer’s gift but with one of Miss Potter’s potency T’Chaka dared not risk speaking a complete falsehood and triggering her keen perception.

“We can negotiate for a smaller amount,” Miss Potter supplied eagerly, a hint of desperation underling her counter.

Not wanting to provide false hope T’Chaka raised his hand to stop her. “I am afraid that I and my people are decided on this matter. There will be no trade.”

Miss Potter closed her eyes as she took in the words as though they were a physical blow but she was not done yet. Opening her eyes she showed her famous fire. “King T’Chaka, I beg you to reconsider. It is no exaggeration to say this potion will save lives. But we cannot brew it without natural vibranium. None of our efforts to create it using magic or science have been able to properly replicate this precious metal. You are the only source we have left before we’ll be force to turn to the vastness of space, exploring the stars for what we need. I have hunted down all the vibranium available through both muggle and magical on the market. I’d steal the good Captain’s recently recovered shield if not for fear of drawing undo attention and if you turn us down I may just result to it besides for the cauldron or two it could give us. Name your price and I will do everything in my power to meet it. Money, resources, manpower, whatever it is you need I will work to get it for you. By Merlin, I’ll sell my hand in marriage or offer my body as surrogate if needs must. Just please, please don’t turn us down outright. Give us a chance to sway you. There has to be something you want?”

T’Challa felt some guilt in his heart for driving such a noble woman renowned for her controlled and reserved nature to such desperation but looking to his father he could see the king would not be not swayed.

“I apologize,” T’Chaka said rising to his feet, the rest of the Wakandans rising with him. “But there will be no business between us. There is no price you can offer. I came to see that you could understand that you must move on to seeking your answers through other avenues.”

Miss Potter rose as well but the others with her remained in their seats.

“Please your majesty. At least allow us to show you for yourself the good this trade could do. We could allow you to tour our facilities, interview with our head researchers and those who’ve already been cured thanks to our work with vibranium so that you might hear their stories.”

This possibly intrigued T’Challa. He looked to his father to see if he would accept but the King was frowning. T’Challa could see T’Chaka would not indulge the possibility of negotiations, not even for a chance at what T’Challa had failed to access.

“I am sorry,” T’Chaka imparted, “but it cannot be. We are anxious to return home and intend leave in only a few hours.”

“So soon,” Miss Potter asked shocked.

“I am sorry this day did not bring what you were hopping for Miss Potter. I wish you the best of luck in finding a way to move forward without the vibranium,” T’Chaka imparted sincerely.

Miss Potter forced a smile for him. “Thank you King T’Chaka.”

With that the King left, the bulk of their protection following after him.

T’Challa lingered behind taking in the group there were leaving. Miss Potter looked devastated, Miss Delacour disappointed, and the men both looked angry. Both Mister Weasley and Mister Zabini glared at him as T’Challa walked up to Miss Potter with Mister Weasley only tempering himself slightly better than Mister Zabini who looked on with open contempt.

***

T’Challa was waiting with his father in their suite for the time when their Portkey would see them to Spain, the first in a long chain of stops before they would be home. It would have been preferable to take their own transport but on official excursions outside of Wakanda they travelled in the ways which limited the rest of the world. It was better at least than the Muggle alternatives.

There was still some time before they were expected to leave. T’Chaka filled that time with a rare diversion into recreational reading while T’Challa thought over some improvements which might be implemented to his Black Panther Armor. 

When there was only an hour left before their departure one of the guards entered with news.

“My King,” the man declared. “The man Zabini has returned. He is alone and requesting to speak to you.”

T’Chaka was surprised but allowed for the wizard to be allowed a meeting.

Entering the room the man, Zabini showed none of the openness or trust Miss Potter had when dealing with them. His face was already set in a scowl. One that became a sneer as he spoke. 

“King T’Chaka. Prince T’Challa,” he addressed with a sarcastic edge to the required respect. He stood perfectly straight with no bowing of his head.

Reacting to his tone the King looked to his son, signaling T’Challa to answer to show that Zabini was not worthy of T’Chaka’s personally responding.

“What is it that has brought you here…” T’Challa asked trailing off as though he did not know the man’s name. Despite the obvious invitation that should have had Zabini falling back on good British pureblood manors to introduce himself he said nothing. When it became clear he would not say anything T’Challa continued. “We thought it had been made clear that our business with Miss Potter was concluded.”

Zabini rolled his eyes. “Oh, you did at that but I’m here as an agent of the International Confederation of Wizards to represent our interests in this matter.”

Instantly the Wakandans in the room were on edge though they worked not to show it.

“We were under the impression you worked for Mister Potter as an assistant,” T’Challa prompted while Zabini walked over to one of the chairs near the King.

Sitting himself down Zabini shrugged. “It gets me where the ICW wants me to be.”

Having his suspicions King asked, “And where is that?”

Zabini turned his disproving gaze on T’Chaka. “Keeping an eye on the Potter’s while insuring their work develops in a way that benefits the magical world as a whole while protecting the IWC’s plans. At the moment that means stepping in to deal with the fact that you’ve denied the Potters the vibranium they need to move forward as they intended.”

“And why would that be of concern to the ICW,” T’Challa asked playing ignorant on his father’s behalf.

“Do we need a reason beyond the fact that the potions it would allow to be brewed could not only save but extend lives,” Zabini asked sardonically with his sneer back in place.

“But that’s not really the business of the ICW is it?”

Zabini looked away from T’Challa dismissively to address the T’Chaka. “You should do a better job of educating your heir King. Wakanda may choose to have a limited relationship with the ICW but he should still know better.”

T’Challa flexed his jaw. In truth he knew all about the ICW and their relationship to his country and others. Due to their perception as a nation poor in affluence and magical ability they had to fight to be given any representation in the organization. Wakanda was given only one seat and that seat was held by T’Challa’s mother as Queen of Wakanda.

The ICW had been amassing power since the late Albus Dumbledore returned after temporarily losing his position as Supreme Mugwump and with every passing year they were using the fear of muggle discovery to take more with their recently appointed Head of Investigation, a Madam Smith -a false name to protect her identity to protect her work- leading them in their efforts to protect magical kind, investigate threats, and enforce the laws and statues agreed upon by the members of the ICW. Wakanda was one of the few countries declining of their “protection” and with it their oversight. For the most part they had believed their reputation protected them from suspicion for doing so but it seemed the interest in vibranium had already proven the threat they expected it would as the eyes of the ICW had been turned on them.

“I’m here to make you an alternate offer to that of the Potters. Officially off the record but I can assure you that I’ll make no empty promises,” Zabini said. There was some malicious satisfaction coming off him as he said it. T’Challa found himself wishing he could challenge the man to a spare and put a few bruises on that smug face.

With a hard expression T’Challa asked, “And what is it that the ICW would propose that they would not be comfortable conducting as official business.”

Pulling a locket off from around his neck Zabini opened it before tossing the locket out to T’Chaka. Intercepting the object and the threat it might pose Okoye caught the chain on the tip of her spear. 

Zabini rolled his eyes. “It’s not cursed. Just a picture for proof of capture.”

Confused. The King leaned forward to inspect the locket which Okoye moved closer to him. T’Challa watched as his father went tense as he stared at the image. Moving forward the Prince went to look for himself. There was an image of Ulysses Klaue, wanted for his crimes against Wakanda for decades. It showed him standing besides Zabini with a copy of that mornings Daily Prophet held up beneath their faces, the date on clear display.

“Ulysses Klaue,” Zadini said garnering an instantaneous if silent reaction from the soldiers in the room who each knew of the man’s crimes. All around they tensed and shifted as their eyes were drawn to the locket or the one who brought it. ‘Proof of capture,’ Zabini had said. Continuing the agent explained, “Despite the magnitude of his crimes against Wakanda you never reported Klaue to us for help in finding him. In fact the only reason we know about what he did was the leak about his attack over on the muggle side.”

“And why would the ICW be interested in a muggle arms dealer,” T’Chaka asked.

“Given your reluctance to make trade with the Potters for the vibranium they needed after the invention of a successful cure to lycanthropy we went looking into alternative sources. Our first stop was to reach out to our muggle contacts. The only names they could give use were Wakanda and Klaue. From there we learned the story of how Klaue came into possession of your Vibranium.”

Zabini looked at his hand to begin inspecting his nails.

“Now, the interesting thing is, had you gone to us for help the ICW would be bound to hand him and the vibranium over to you, but you didn’t, because you wanted to handle it yourself,” Zabini said smug and slightly mocking. Looking up he stared down T’Chaka. “Yet another thing you’re missing out on thanks to your need to go it alone.”

All in the room was glaring at him.

“What is it the ICW proposes,” T’Chaka asked.

“In exchange for our transferring one Ulysses Klaue to Wakanda to face justice by your laws you will accept the offer Miss Potter’s made this morning. You will tour. You will speak to those affected by the work they have done with vibranium. You will let it appear as though you have been won over. You will then make a new deal in which you trade with Miss Potter giving her ten times the vibranium outline in her latest proposal for the overly generous price she offer for that tenth as well as a share in the profits that will come from that potion.”

Zabini stopped there.

Unhappy to speak but needing to know T’Chaka asked, “And what of the vibranium Ulysses Klaue stole.”

“That will remain in the ICW’s reserve in case another need should arise that you decline to fill.”

T’Challa watched his father’s jaw flex. 

“And if we refuse,” the King asked.

“If the deal does not go through as specified then Ulysse Klaue will disappear. There will be no trail to follow. No one involved will retain their memories of where he is for you to interrogate the answers from them. Even if you bring this conversation public, it won’t lead you to finding him. He will be hidden away to live out a long healthy life in happiness and opulent indulgence.”

“Just to spite us,” T’Challa said sneering at Zabini who sneered back.

“For centuries you’ve selfishly withheld, holding back advancements that could heal and save lives while your own people benefited with long healthy peaceful lives yourself. So yes, if you don’t accept this and change your ways we will gladly treat a killer like royalty just to spite you.”

The pair glared at each other, nostrils flaring. Around the room others were glaring at Zabini as well. Those who were not watched their King to see what he would declare.

“You should know, that when I left she was crying.”

“What,” T’Challa asked confused.

“Harriet. When I left here she was crying. She doesn’t do that, even around her most trusted. She feels she has to be strong so she won’t let herself break down, but after your meeting today she couldn’t help it,” Zabini declared directing righteous anger at the prince.

T’Challa fought not to lower his head in quilt remembering the look in Miss Potter’s eyes earlier, the hurt that still showed despite her best efforts.

“It’s the burden of being a seer of her level,” Zabini continued. “She knows. All she has to think about this potion and she’s burdened with an instinctual grasp of just how many people suffer and die with every hour she doesn’t get things sorted to get it to them. Knowing it intellectually is one thing, but knowing it in your heart and being forced to dream of them as your guilt guides your sight? Can you imagine it? The burden of it?”

T’Challa was no longer able to stop himself from braking eye contact.

Zabini snorted. “People wonder where Harriet finds her resolve, her perseverance, and persistence. That’s the answer. You and I are limited. We don’t see. Our perspective of our lives and the effects of our actions is limited. But her? She sees all the connections and impacts. It isn’t the big picture. It isn’t as impersonal as that. She knows how this effects on the grader scale as well as the more intimately to individuals. She knows the happiness of a father living to hold his first grandchild. She knows of the difference one life having an extra 10, 50, 100 years to impact others and create and invent can do. When you know something is for the best how do you turn your back on it.”

Shrugging Zabini stood. “Maybe I don’t give her enough credit. Maybe if we had her understanding we would still be able to turn away. Maybe if she didn’t have her gift she would still carry on. Who knows. What I do know is that she will not be giving up on the vibranium. You tried to plant the idea in her head to direct her towards looking in other directions but she won’t. She knows this is the best path so she won’t give up on it. She can’t. Once she latches on to what is best she is not swayed. If the vibranium doesn’t come from you. She’ll find another way.”

Walking over to Okoye Zabini held out his hand for his locket. She looked to her King who nodded before swinging her spear around to allow Zabini to take it. Unintimidated the agent rolled his eyes taking the locket as he continued.

“Harriet’s found a way to bring about the impossible before. A means may not have been found yet to make vibranium but there has to be a way. That’s the wonder of magic; Nothing is impossible. In the meantime, that remark about going out among the stars to find vibranium? That wasn’t hyperbole. If you stick to this that’s exactly what she’ll do. The muggles have already started things off. She will take their work and apply our best minds and magical might to it. Our people think she could manage space in less then a year. Deep space in two. And that isn’t an educated guess. Harriet might be the strongest seer known but we have our own working to lead us right. Having you involved clouds the view but not so much that we don’t know what’s coming.”

“Why should that matter to Wakanda,” T’Challa asked.

“For the same reasons it matters to us. Unlike the muggles we know there is life out there and we know just how dangerous and beyond us many of those races are. If we draw their attention the odds are it won’t go well. It may have been forgotten by most but it is only due to the intimidation of Asgard that Earth has been left alone. Once we go exploring and making contract for ourselves that protection comes to an end.”

“So that is why the IWC has gotten involved in this,” T’Challa asked disbelieving.

“This was the easiest time to get involved. Sabotaging Harriet is an effort in futility. She’ll get what she wants eventually as the majority of the public and politicians would back her in this. In their ignorance they would find the idea of traveling the stars thrilling. Balancing the effects of the potion against an abstract danger they will vote with what they know can help them over a possible threat which they have no frame of reference for. With the public on her side the ICW would be forced to follow.”

For Zabini that seemed to be the last of what he had to say. Not waiting for a response he headed for the door. Turning to his father to know what he should do T’Challa saw T’Chaka looking contemplative with no sign he wished for Zabini to be detained.

Zabini had almost made it to the door before stopping. Taking a deep breath he rolled his shoulders back and in before he forced himself to relax, standing straight, and speak. 

“Personally I don’t give a shit about you. If I had my way things would be going down differently, but I’m not the one in charge. Madam Smith understands where you’re coming from. She’s sympathetic,” Zabini said the word with disgust. T’Challa could not see his sneer but he could hear it. “So I’m going to give you some advice. Her reasoning through my mouth in my words. Its better to make allies in a time of peace than to seek cooperation when aggression is in play. When the world finds out what you’ve been keeping to yourselves, all the lives you could have helped to save, they won’t cry like Harriet. Well, maybe some will but most? They’re going to be resentful and from that resentment will come aggression. Your time is running out. The rest of the world is catching up.” 

“If you help in leading the way to ‘a better future for all,’” Zabini said obviously borrowing the words and the sentiment attached, “they’ll see you as saviors. Some will still resent, some will be selfish and seek gain, but they’ll be in the few rather than a mob. The ICW is willing to help you with that on both the muggle and magical side of things with however integrated you want to get or what help you are willing to give. You may have chosen isolation but as a magical nation of magical individuals it is the ICWs mission to protect you the same as we do anyone else. Giving you some of the profits in potion, getting you involved with Harriet, Madam Smith arranged that in the hope of forcing you to take the first steps. From here its up to you but we don’t promise not to go on interfering. For your sake as much as everyone else’s.”

With that Zabini reached for the door but with a gesture from the King had the guards blocked him from proceeding. He looked back at T’Chaka unimpressed.

“Sit,” the King told Zabini gesturing to the seat he had abandoned.

Zabini appeared unfazed. “I have a day job to get back to. I gave up my lunch break to get this done.”

“Then we will send for lunch from the dinning room,” T’Chaka said looking to one of the guards who was blocking Zabini’s way who nodded in return before heading out the door.

Looking frustrated Zabini pulled out his watch to check the time. “You’re paying?”

T’Chaka was reluctantly amused. “Miss Potter has been covering our bills.”

Zabini shrugged. “As long as it’s not coming out of my pocket. With the bill being comped you may not have realized just how expensive this place is.”

Heading back to the chair Zabini plopped himself in it before sprawling out. “You have twenty minutes before I have to go so whatever you want to ask watch your time.”

***

An hour and twenty-five minutes later Blaise used the hotel floo to leave. He’d given the King and Prince more time than promised. He might not have had they been asking the wrong sort of questions but lucky them the conversation seemed productive enough to be worth his time. With the kind of things they were asking it seemed they were heading down the right path and so he lingered, eating and talking as the time for the Wakandan’s planned departure ticked by. He stayed until the questions got tedious, sensing they were feeling too entitled to his time and information.

From the hotel he traveled to the twins joke shop, before going from there to his own home then John’s place. Formally Malfoy Manor the place was hardly recognizable from the times Blaise visited it as a child.

After everything that had happened there during the Dark Lord’s occupation Draco had little interest in remaining surrounded by memories of that trying time and what his family had lost for their service. With all the Malfoy fortune drained by said Lord and then more in fines owed for Lucius wrong doings Draco could hardly afford to see to necessary repairs let alone remodel away the reminders of unpleasant things. Instead he decided to sell. Talking to Harriet he sought her advice as a seer as to how to go about selling and getting a fair price. She suggested her cousin.

John bought the manor and grounds for less than what they once were worth but given the damage, residual dark magic, and reputation from the knowledge that the Dark Lord had lived there it was a fortune better than anyone else would have given Draco. Where Malfoy couldn’t afford it John could more than afford to remodel the manor to his liking and had. The building and grounds was restored beyond its former glory putting the memory of what it used to be to shame.

While Harriet and John used 12 Grimmauld Place for the bulk of their public work it was the Manor that was most often used for the things that needed to happen behind closed doors. Because of this the protections at the Manor were just as good as those in London. As such Blaise was left waiting on arrival in the floo room to be cleared to move into the main house.

When the door swung open it was Gabrielle on the other the other side. She looked at him with both meticulously plucked and shaped eyebrows raised. Playfully she scolded, “And what time do you call this?”

If she was expecting an answer from him she should have known better. Blaise wasn’t one to repeat himself. He’d save anything he had to say for the boss. Moving past her he asked, “Where’s John?”

Gabrielle gave a huff. “East sun room.”

Zabini snorted. Sun room? The name called to mind images of warmth but the place was a well lit icebox. In preparation for his visit Zabini cast a warming charm on himself before walking inside. John Potter was lounging in his favored chair, feet bare, ankle on knee, and his shirt off to expose more of his skin to the sun coming through the glass and the cold which filled the room. Imagining prudish Percy’s reaction if he ever saw John in such a state put a smile on Blaise face.

“Boss,” he greeted John.

Looking up from his reading John studied Blaise before speaking. “Given the time and that you’re reporting here instead of to a medic is it safe to assume they were willing to listen.”

Blaise nodded dropping into the chair across from John. In the corner of his eye he caught sight of Gabrielle leaning against the door frame so she might listen without having to endure the cold. Lucky. Blaise could already feel the burn of the cold on his expose skin and in his nostrils and throat. Meanwhile the boss had nary a goose bump. Benefit of the Frost Giant blood. Honestly with ice like that running through his veins it was mind boggling how shocked people could be when they discovered just how cold and ruthless John Potter could be.

“They took the pitch then they had me stay for a Q and A about what exactly the ICW and ‘Madam Smith’ thought about Wakanda and their future. I’d guess it was a third genuine interest and the rest a mix of feeling me out while playing to know what we knew about them. They went over their allotted time and I had to be the one to call it to an end but at least they had the decency to feed me first.”

In a familiar gesture John steeped his fingers, bringing them to his forehead while he considered this. “Better than we expected. You must have done well with your delivery.”

Blaise smiled with pride. John wasn’t one to give him praises unless he wholly admired his efforts.

“What would you put the odds that they suspect Harriet or my involvement in this?”

“They seemed to take the situation as I presented it. I think they’ve locked on the idea that I’m a covert agent keeping a watch on you for the ICW without your knowledge but I won’t bet good money on it. After all, we aren’t the only one’s capable of duplicity and they have experience at it. It could be their acting skills were up to the job of fooling even more.”

John nodded. “Always a chance but people tend to expect others to act like them, if they see the other as anything close to equal. They may look down on the rest of the world but they fear the ICW enough to see us in such a light. As they send out covert agents to watch and lie for their cause it should feel natural to them to assume the ICW would do the same. With debate over whether Harriet, young as she is, should be given one of the British seats they shouldn’t expect she’d have the kind of connections to hold the ICW’s confidence.”

“That might be different if they know the ICW interviewed Harriet for a position right out of Hogwarts,” Blaise threw in.

John tilted her head from one side to the other. “It wasn’t well known at the time and those who did know were made to be aware that the position was for one of intern with the thought that she would be interested in politics which as she was not, she supposedly turned them down.”

Blaise accepted John’s reasoning so did not comment further on that matter. Instead he asked, “When will we tell Harriet about the deal?”

John flexed his fingers in uncertainty as he considered the situation. Rarely did he look anything but confident. It wasn’t ego. John was competent in most affairs and there for had no reason to doubt himself. It was for this reason among many others that Blaise respected John when he found most people worthy of dismissal if not contempt. It was his hope that in working for John he might one day learn enough to stand the man’s equal. He wasn’t sure it was possible, but this was what Blaise strived for.

Despite John’s general competence, lying and keeping secrets from Harriet in regard to either their personal or professional lives was not something he made a habit of. It was clear it didn’t sit right with him but John would always do what he thought was best for Harriet, even if it meant leaving himself on uncertain footing. The only reason they’d been able to keep this particular plot a secret from her this far were the protections the Wakandans had over themselves helping to interfere with Harriet being able to See what John and Blaise were up to.

John sighed. “We’ll see what the King decides. If they leave, nothings truly changed and we’ll update her on the situation. If they agree to meet with Harriet again, we’ll keep her in the dark a little longer. If she doesn’t know the truth she can’t be caught as a liar. She’ll be confused and suspicious as to why they’ve changed their minds but for a short time she can have that small joy she gets from hoping people have done good of their own volition. When she finds out the truth she will be unhappy but she’ll be more burdened by having yet another secret to keep than she will be from my having arranged to work this plot beneath her notice. We’ll keep her load this small bit lighter while we can.”

‘As though that isn’t what we’re always doing,’ Blaise thought unable to hold back a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was the chapter. I don’t know how to feel about it. I know it wasn’t well written. Editing I just kept finding mistakes and I’m sure as I wasn’t much healthier editing than I was writing I imagine I missed a lot. It got done what I wanted of it but did it do it well? Please share your thoughts bellow cause I’m really not sure if I’m happy with how it turned out. Was I too ambiguous in the stuff I set up previously and the answers and foreshadowing I tried slipping in without being explicit here? Did you find T’Challa’s perspective to be okay? Did you approve of Blaise being the one to take the meeting? :( I am lost in my doubts. Thankfully I have less doubts going forward as everything that comes from this point is what I originally imagined for this story so its been in my head awhile now.


	6. And So It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A vision leads Harriet to believe the General is coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got low. Not as low as Doctor Banner but I was not in a good place. Health, tec issues, life issues. It was all too much and my mental health took a plummet. The only reason this chapter is getting out now is all of you who left and have been leaving comments from the short to the long. It’s helped me so much, I cannot say. Thank you everyone. Thank you for your words and your time which you gave to reading this story and leaving comments. Thank you.

An army stands ready  
A General has been procured to lead them  
The General shall come before the leader of Earth’s Shield,  
To make declarations of war  
The Shield will fail, the ground will crumble,  
But the beacon and her knights will come to the fore  
To stand at the side of the Shield and their heroes  
Together they shall see us prevail

Thousands of voices howled out the words on the winds of the blizzard made the world around Harriet white with a barricade of snow which kept her from seeing clearly. While the cold may not have bothered her the winds were working diligently to push her back. The pain they caused her eyes made her wish to close them and turn away. The force on her body provided a similar effect, insisting that she should reverse her course, leave her quest behind. 

“Mistress,” Nagini hissed with distress. 

Harriet reached up a hand to comfort stroke Tom’s familiar through her robes where the snake was coiled around Harriet’s neck, torso and waist.  
Nagini could feel the intention of the storm just as Harriet could. They were being urged quite violently away from what was ahead. Had Harriet been a normal human Seer she would have already been expelled from her vision, left shivering and with a throbbing head. But Harriet was not all together human. Resisting the magic that tried to block her from Seeing Harriet left her eyes open while plowing ahead through the manifested environment around her until finally there was abruptly a break in the storm.

Hidden safely in the eye of the blizzard stood the familiar statue Harriet’s sire. The man she suspected was the general to come. Up above were the golden skies of her unconscious with a large hole cut through the fabric of space . Lining this portal stood an army, peering down bellow with spaceships and blackness and stars behind them. Determined Harriet tried to get closer, to search out the answers they needed but the storm fought harder still to keep her from proceeding. With invisible hands it seemed to reach out to pull her back. Utilizing all her strength Harriet resisted but as she made to lift her foot for her next step the ground began to shake cause Harriet to loose her balance. 

The wind grabbed at her. 

Harriet fell.

Unable to fight it she was pulled out of the clearing and back into the blizzard.

Vertigo overtook her making it impossible to tell what was up or down as she continued to fall through the blizzard with the voices of prophets all howling the same prediction at her. No matter how she flailed or where she turned Harriet only continued to fall and tumble at the mercy of the storm.

“Master,” Nagini called out in distress.

With a start Harriet returned to consciousness her body trying still to flail but instead she was trapped. Harriet couldn’t move. She couldn’t move! With the emotions of the vision still coursing through her panic overtook Harriet. She didn’t understand what was happening and was too worked up to use calmly work it out. Instead she lashed out at whatever was restraining her with magic. She wanted to be able to move. She needed to get free. She needed to warn the others. But the instinctual use of a Jotunn’s cursed cold did nothing to help free her.

Suddenly the encasement that kept her still lost strength. The ice around Harriet’s body began to crack and melt as a pair of human arms reached in to retrieve her form the tub.

As Harriet broke the surface she gasped for air while Voldemort continued pulling her up out of the water to his chest where he cradled her close, offering comfort.

“It’s alright. You’re safe. You slipped into a vision,” he told her as she clawed, clinging to him, lost in the animal nature of panic. Voldemort continued his assurances in a soothing tone. “You’re safe. You’re in the bathroom at home. I’ve got you.”

“Nagini,” Harriet asked vaguely worried but with the panic retreating she could sense that she shouldn’t be.

“Safely on her perch. Her mind traveled with you but her body was and is secure just as you are,” Voldemort assured while rubbing comforting circles on Harriet’s back. 

Shakily Harriet nodded as she opened her Sight to take in the house around them, seeing through the walls that all was as it should be. They were home. She was standing in her tub with Voldemort helping to hold her up and Nagini on her perch. No other living soul was around for miles.

After her overly long day Harriet had thought to take a soak. Word that the Wakandans were choosing to stay so they might take her up on her offer of a tour was a pleasant surprise but meant putting in overtime to cement arrangements and make certain everyone was on the right page. All the while she was nagged by her natural curiosity over why the Wakandan’s had decided to stay. Some quick attempts at divining answers were blocked. However Harriet had her suspicions for the sudden change and those suspicions almost entirely lead back to the most cunning person she knew. Voldemort.

With this deal going through meaning so much to her Harriet suspected that Voldemort her every chance to make it work before stepping in to force the matter when her methods proved to fail. Rather than confronting him she was trusting he knew better than to resort to any measures too extreme or diabolical. She was also trusting that he hadn’t included her in his plans for good reason.

Staying out of things was not naturally in Harriet’s nature. This had only gotten worse in the last decade or so. Harriet had grown accustomed to being a chess master influencing the action on the board guided by her sight and the vast trove of intelligence she’d gathered on the pieces. Most people Harriet couldn’t stand to have making moves without her oversight. Even Voldemort, her most trusted companion working in secrecy left her agitated.

With the days work done and another long day ahead of her Harriet thought to allow herself a good long soak before bed. Locked away in the quiet of her bathroom she slipped bellow the water’s surface her thoughts wondered to the prophecy. Led by her desire for answers Harriet’s sight cast out to find them. Unfortunately the protections being used by this general and his army fought against her efforts. Reacting to what her consciousness was perceiving to be happening her magic reached out, freezing the bathwater around her in order to create a protective casing around her body.

Panting Harriet closed her Sight and eyes so she might focus on settling herself.

“What did you see,” Voldemort asked.

“I think he’s coming. I think he’s coming soon. As in imminently.” 

Opening her eyes again Harriet took a deep fortifying breath. Lightly she hit Voldemort’s chest as a signal she was ready to be let go. Obligingly he left her to stand under her own volition. On steady feet Harriet stepped out of the tub while Voldemort reached to collect her wand and hand it over to her. With a flick she was dry and striding out into her bedroom.

“While I’m getting dressed would you fetch a tea set,” she asked.

Nodding Voldemort headed for the door. 

Up on her habitat Nagini was watching them anxiously. Diverting from her path Harriet headed to the familiar to offer her some comfort before continuing to her clothes. Rather than Harriet-at-home or her Harriet Potter-leader-of-the-light ware Harriet went for something very different. A small section of her wardrobe was purposely very distinguishable from the rest.

Everything in this section was made well but basic. Utilitarian in nature the pieces were made of sturdy fabrics mostly in navy blue with the occasional piece in black and a few white button downs thrown in. With military efficiency Harriet went about dressing herself. Enchanting the clothes into helping her was not an option as the materials were chosen in part for their magical resistance qualities.

By the time Voldemort returned Harriet was dressed. Not a hint of skin showed from the half way up her neck down with her high collared long jacket doing most of the work to cover her with her boots, trousers, and gloves taking care of the rest. Setting the tea service down on the bed Voldemort sent a spell at Harriet’s hair braided into one neat plait before it twisted up into a tight bun on the top of her head while Harriet went about serving them each a cup. After handing his over Harriet drank her own down like a shot before looking inside.

Her cup spoke of important decisions ahead of her. Something that was as common as it was unhelpful. Setting it down dismissively, she held out her other hand for Voldemort’s emptied cup.

“What do you see,” he asked.

“Strain.” She saw strain to his resolve. With Voldemort that was a worrying sign as about the only thing he was resolved to was keeping Harriet happy and safe. The worse thing he could do to upset Harriet was over indulging in his selfish or malicious tendencies.

“I’m going on ahead. Get Nagini settled with the elves then catch up,” Harriet said her tone and manor transforming as she began slipping into a different mindset.

“I’m join you as quickly as I can,” Voldemort promised as he moved off for his bedroom so he might change.

“Be safe Mistress,” Nagini hissed out with concern.

Lingering for a moment to hold the snake’s head to her own, Harriet promised, “I’ll do my best.” 

This one soft moment of care Harriet allowed herself before pulling back and locking her emotions away. A stern cool facade took over her being and with it came a change to her appearance. Through the joint working of illusion and transfiguration her body was transformed. A shaving of her height was lost while the rest of her body grew slightly more shapely as well as acquiring some more obvious muscle mass. The features of her face shifted along with her body aging to place her firmly in being viewed as an adult but still relatively young in the grand scheme of the magical world. Her skin transformed from a warm to cool skin tone. Her eyes lightened becoming a piercing blue. Her hair too lightened to blonde strands which were mostly straight and styled in a short cut which was brushed directly back from her face.

Over all the change could have been more drastic. Harriet could have done much more to make this disguise different form the look she was born with, but sometimes things being too different could draw attention to them. Most people would suppose that in crafting a new persona for herself Harriet would make it as different from her true identity as possible. Which is precisely why she hadn’t.

With the transformation of her body complete Harriet fell into the mindset and mannerisms of ‘Madam Smith,’ Head of the ICW’s Investigations and Enforcement Personnel. The Enforcement part had never really been all that prevalent before the groups ‘official’ founding upon Harriet’s becoming head. Before that the ICW’s Investigators had been one of the Wizarding World’s best kept secrets. At the time made up exclusively by those blessed with reliable Sight this handful of individuals was tasked mostly with seeing to it that muggles that weren’t meant to know about magic weren’t secretly aware.

Unknowingly Harriet had been introduced to the then Head of the Investigators during her sixth year. Before his death Dumbledore worked hard to get Harriet connected to the ‘right’ or necessary people. The height of his effort was a New Year’s party he co-hosted with Professor Slughorn whom he had persuaded to come back to teaching using Harriet as the bait. Together they filled the event with some of the most powerful and influential people, along with some of Dumbledore’s greatest allies for the light from other shores.

Having met and perceived for himself the truth of her abilities the Head marked Harriet for recruitment. During her finale year at Hogwarts after taking her NEWT exams she’d received a letter from the ICW’s then new Supreme-Mugwump. Despite having only just finished the exam and her official results being weeks off the letter congratulated her on her overwhelmingly Outstanding results before offering her a chance to interview for an internship at the ICW. Harriet hadn’t known what to expect but at Voldemort, Hermione, and Percy’s insistence she accepted. It was there she learned about the true position that was being offered her; not an internship but a permanent position. At the time Investigators were the ICW’s spies, spying mostly on muggles to ensure they were not secretly acting against magicals and those let in on the secret were keeping it. The idea of all she could learn while occasionally traveling the world and largely being able to live her own life for the sake of her ‘cover’ appealed to Harriet. With vows of secrecy taken Harriet accepted the position. She had to tell everyone that the offer of getting involved in politics didn’t appeal to her. Even Voldemort she could not tell the truth to. He had been able to sense she was lying to him and worried what had happened, but while the vow ensured she could not speak the words it did nothing to stop her from leaving out her memories of the visit in their shared mindscape where he could view them.

Only a few years after Harriet took on the job her first boss was forced into retirement. His replacement chose her as his second. On his recommendation she was given the position as Head four years previously at the age of twenty-eight. She was the first Head free of grey hairs to ever be appointed to the position. Few in the know argued against her appointment. They did however work hard to argue against the many changes she worked to enact. Sometimes they got their way. Mostly Harriet won out. That her previous boss was willing to get the ball rolling during his tenure helped immensely.

Using her Sling Ring Harriet left the arctic traveling through seven locations before using the portkey that was waiting at the seventh to take her to the headquarters for the European based Investigators. She shouldn’t have been able to reach the portkey if she wasn’t herself but as a last measure of security she cast a series of spells including her patronus on arrival to show she was who she presented herself to be. As a spectral Hedwig circled around her head the agents who were present on her arrival cast their own spell series to assure her of their own identity. They used to be less cautious but one too many times Harriet had been stabbed in the back when people assumed that someone wearing the right face meant they were who they appeared to be.

With precautions out of the way the guards stood at attention. 

“Ma’am,” welcomed ‘Martin’ who in his life outside of the ICW was Damian Oldicast.

As an added layer to her disguise Harriet spoke with an American accent with a twist. An accent which spoke to travel and was hard to nail down. “Send out an alert to all priority five and above contacts. Intelligence has given which suggests fulfillment of the prophecy is about to begin. We should be preparing for the possibility of invasion, possibly via portal, as soon as within the next twenty-four hours. All commanders and trainees for the Convergence are to go on call.”

“Ma’am,” Martin repeated this time in concern.

“They may not have been expecting to be put to use for awhile yet but they can consider this a vital test run. If there is an attack, whether by portal or not, we are going to have concerns about containment, evacuation, and contamination. They are the only ones with training to handle this on such short notice with the global reach to compensate for the fact that we don’t know where the threat will be coming from.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Martin replied with a nod. Leaving him to give out the orders to see it done Harriet headed down the hall to her private communications room. With the call going out there were some very important people who would be looking to talk to her. Surrounded by private communication mirrors she stood at rest stoically waiting for the calls to come in. It didn’t take long.

Unsurprisingly it was those for whom it was not the middle of the night that were the first to come calling in. With strained patience she dealt with those who were frazzled or in denial at the news she was sending their way. Those who responded with competence and professionalism despite their concerns Harriet worked with gratefully. Thankfully by the time one particular mirror blinked to life Voldemort had arrive ‘in uniform’ and was waiting at Harriet’s back and ready to take over fielding the calls.

Declaring her need to step out to those she was in conversation with Harriet handed matters over to Blaise while taking the waiting mirror off to her office.

Setting the mirror on her desk Harriet answered the call.

As the mirror came to life a familiar face materialized.

“Madam Smith,” the caller greeted with a nod.

“Councilwoman Carter,” Harriet greeted with a nod of her own for the former agent and co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its a lot shorter than is usual and I know its a cliff hanger but I hope you enjoyed it besides.


	7. Councilwoman Carter and the Tesseract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the title suggests, Councilwoman Carter and the Tesseract

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this isn’t better. I wanted to it be better, but I also want it posted. I’m in pain and upset and so this is the best I can do.
> 
> Also, in trying to write this chapter I wanted to check some of my facts on Agent Carter especially as I sadly have never been able to see her show. In doing so I got a big spoiler for Endgame which put me off continuing to write this chapter. Then I got to see Endgame which made me excited to get back to writing this. No Spoilers but seeing the movie made me think about adjusting a couple of plans for this story going forward but for the most part everything that happened in it doesn’t effect my planned plot at all (yippee!). That being said even though I’ve seen the movie be careful with spoilers in the comments section. I’d hate for somebody to have something ruined for them. Put big labels on spoilers if your going to be talking about them.
> 
> Also, also, I gave Harriet’s former boss a name. In previous chapters I couldn’t decide on one so I avoided it (I hate naming things/characters). Now I have named him. He’s Hauata. He was not the one who was in charge when Harriet was recruited but the one who was in charge for a few years with Harriet as his second.

Hogwarts. The day when they would receive their letters was something every magically raised child dreamed of. That their children might not receive a letter was something that worried magical parents. At least that was how things were when she was a child. Prospects for a squib or weak magiced individual had gotten better in the new century but in the past it was considered a great tragedy should a child be born without the magical might to qualify them for an education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Despite the many decades that had past Peggy could still viscerally recall how the joy in their household transformed to tension as the day wore on and her brother’s letter didn’t arrive. Having not qualified to attend Hogwarts their parents took him the next day to be tested so they might know what other options were be available to him. The tests revealed her brother to be a squib. What accidental magic they had attributed to the him was revealed to have come from cousins, playmates, and possibly Peggy. The chance that none of it had come from Peggy plagued her parents in the following years.

With no access to his magic Michael and their parents were forced to face what the future would hold for him. It was decided that they would move to the outskirts of a muggle village so Michael might receive an education there which would prepare him for a future where he could never wield a wand.

Later when Peggy’s own momentous birthday approached the tension built to oppressive levels in their household as her parents dreaded another Hogwarts letter not to come and their children resented them or their fear. The day itself was spent solemnly waiting for a letter which did indeed never come. 

The next day, as Michael had been before her, Peggy was taken to be tested. Her results revealed that while she would be able to wield a wand it was unlikely she would ever advance beyond the most basic of spellwork with a first year’s Hogwarts’ curriculum being the furthest she could hope to reach. The one bit of ‘good news’ the tests provided her parents was that she would be able to brew potions and if she had enough of a talent could possibly find gainful employment in the magical world. It was also found she had a slight affinity for divination but given the value British magical society placed on the subject this was dismissed by the couple.

Her parents intended to send Peggy to one of Britain’s less prestigious magical schools where she could receive social and magical training. They hoped despite lacking any passion for the field that she would dedicated herself to potions so she might become a potioneer then perhaps one day she would find a good Wizard to marry who would not be concerned with her status. However Peggy was against this plan. With her usual stubbornness and her brother’s support she insisted instead to be sent to a muggle school where she might pursue her future in that world as Michael intended too. Her parents were disappointed but allowed her what she wanted. 

Peggy was sent to one of the oldest schools for girls in Britain, St Martin-in-the-Fields High School for Girls, to receive her muggle education while private tutors saw to teaching her what little magic she was capable. She received a wand and when the time came managed enough OWLs thanks to subjects which did not require casting to keep it though for the most part it was kept in storage as using it while among the muggles with which she lived seemed to great a risk of exposure to Peggy when she could do so little with it.

When the war began Peggy got work as a codebreaker. Later, she was recommended by then Captain Michael Carter for the Special Operations Executive. Peggy became a Field Agent and in doing so caught the interest of the ICW. Normally with her minimal talent in divination she would never have qualified as an Investigator but with the war on ‘needs must.’ With so many different elements at play on both the magical and muggle side of the war there was a great concern that secrecy would fail. It was the hope of the ICW that Peggy would be able to work her way up the ranks and in time be in a position to help keep secrecy in tact and the ICW informed as to what was happening regarding what was happening on the muggle side of the war.

After the war both the ICW and the Muggle governments suddenly saw little use in Peggy. To the muggles, she was dismissed as just the woman whom Steve Rogers had cared for. To the magicals, she was once again only a witch barely worthy of the name. But Peggy would not take that lying down. She forced others to remember her true worth and was rewarded for it. She became a co-founder of Shield and in doing so regained the ICW’s attention.

For decades Peggy worked through Shield to keep the muggle and magical worlds safe while seeing to it that secrecy prevailed. However as time passed a new form of prejudice came to work against her. In the magical world age was respected but in the muggle world? With a female leader no less? It was not. Peggy for the sake of secrecy had to appear to age and be healed as a muggle would. As her hair seemingly went grey and lines appeared on her face questions were being raised about whether she was still fit to be in charge despite many of the men who worked with her being almost her equal in age. That Howard supported her kept those questions whispered but after his assassination those against Peggy no longer felt the need to stay quiet.

Then a short time later, too short to be a coincidence, an assassination attempt was made on Peggy as well. She managed to survive it but unfortunately before she could receive magical healing she was seen by the doctors of Shield who declared that she would never be able to walk again. Force in the name of secrecy to pretend to be bound to a wheelchair dealing with a slow recover Peggy lost the fight. She was pushed out of the very organization she had helped to build.

Once she was no longer valued by Shield the ICW saw little value to her service. For some years Peggy was forced to enjoy a resentful retirement. There were some benefits to it though. It gave her time to spend with her aging brother, his wife, their children, and grandchildren. She may have never married or had children herself but she was not without those to love and dote on being loved in return and kept busy when Peggy found she didn’t know what to do with herself. Still, when that wasn’t enough Peggy tried dating. It wasn’t uncommon in the wizarding world, holding off marriage to a focus on a craft and career then later looking to find someone to share your last years with. Finding the right man however proved more arduous then Peggy felt the companionship was worth. Peggy was a woman who lived in multiple worlds. Magical, muggle, and those of secrecy and spies. While the men she met could relate to her life in one they were often at a loss to connect to the other sides of her. That Steve even after all this time was always at the back of her mind did not help matters.

It wasn’t long at all before Peggy gave up on dating.

Then came a change in the old guard. The Head who led the Investigators of the ICW since Peggy’s recruitment had been force to bow into retirement with less shine to his legacy then Peggy had left hers with. A month after news of his retirement but not what had led to it reached her Peggy received a visit from his replacement. Hauata was not a man Peggy had worked with regularly but she was by far her favorite to work with. She had never known the man to show any form of prejudice, he was resourceful, and he was compassionate. With him was his second, the then Agent Smith. Quickly Peggy realized that Agent Smith was not there as a glorified assistant and bodyguard but was in fact being groomed by Hauata as his successor.

They played no games during this visit which was refreshing for Peggy after her many years working with spies and politicians. As they were all perspective by natural with Peggy being a seasoned agent and the two in front of her talented Seers everything was simply laid bare in a frank manner. Peggy wanted out of retirement and they wanted her to take up the seat representing magical interests on the World Security Council. Naturally Peggy accepted.

Finding out about her appointment caused some stir up at Shield with a divide between the dissatisfied and pleased. Her contacts both magical and muggle within her former organization were happy to pass word of these reactions on to her. She was pleasantly surprised when Agent Smith took the time to report the information the ICW had on Shield’s reaction to her appointment as well. It was this consideration which set the tone for their working relationship.

In the years since the two of them had become respected compatriots to one another. Peggy still did not know who the woman was outside of her work but Peggy found she did not mind being in the dark. In the muggle world such ignorance would have been unacceptable to her but in the magical world Peggy knew Smith was bound heavily by vows to keep her true. With Smith having sacrificed her freedom for the work Peggy did not worry over the heads Secrets. 

“Madam Smith,” Peggy greeted the woman who was her junior in years but still her boss.

“Councilwoman Carter,” Smith returned with a polite bowing of her head. “I assume you’ve receive our news.”

“I have,” Peggy reported with a frown. “What do you need me to do?”

“Most of the Security Council may be permitted to retain knowledge of magicals during their time appointed but not all. As such we can’t warn them as a whole as to what is coming. Be on alert. Keep them from over reacting when the time comes.”

Peggy nodded. Despite the purpose of the council many of the appointed were prone forming opinions quickly and eager to take action which was rarely conducive with peace. Unfortunately magicals were banned from interfering with who was appointed to these seats. The only council member they had any say in was their own.

Madam Smith continued, “I would also appreciate it if you prepare yourself for the possibility of returning to the field. I need people out there I can trust. Of that number you are one of the few with experience of an active war zone.”

Peggy would deny it but her heart kicked up at the idea of leaving the office to return to the work that made her feel the most alive. “Yes ma’am.”

“There is also the issue of Captain Rogers.”

Peggy couldn’t help but frowning at the name as her heart went from flying to plummeting. Despite Steve refusing her apologies for not finding him, insisting it was not her fault, the crushing guilt Peggy felt was not absolved. She had worked with Howard until his death on finding ‘the body’ and it was a body she expected to find. The former ICW Head had assured her when Steve went down that all their seer’s had come to the same conclusion, that he was dead. She’d begged and bartered with her former Head for assistance in retrieving Steve for a proper burial but the man was firm in telling her that the organization had Seen it was best the matter was not interfered with by them. He ordered Peggy that she was not to used magical aid or means in the search nor retrieval.

She disobeyed. How could she not? But her efforts at divining answers regarding Steve’s status had given less clear answers. She had put that down to her skills being piddling compared to others. The same lack of talent which kept her from finding the body on her own. Now she knew the uncertainty of her results had been due to Steve’s soul remaining with his body despite his heart being stopped. 

Since Steve was found alive Smith investigated the matter on Peggy’s behalf and learned that the Investigators were at the time very much aware that if found Steve could easily had been revived. It was their choice to leave him in the ice as their visions of the future should he return to service were not to their liking. With Steve there and out fighting the good fight experiments to duplicate the effect and make more super soldiers would have run a muck. The results of which for good and bad would have been cropping up all over year after year changing the world in ways that would have made it impossible for the magical world to hide as they were then.

Secrecy was the prime objective of the ICW’s Investigators. Rather than thinking around the problem as Madam Smith would have, as Peggy would have, they chose to leave a hero to languish in the ice as people mourned him and the years passed by. Now Steve was still a young man while Peggy was an old woman who’d lived out the majority of her life. Thanks to the magic that ran in her veins and the cures available in their world she was still extremely healthy and spry. Ninety-one was rather different for a witch than a muggle, even a witch of little power like Peggy but it did not change the fact that she was even by magical standards being seen as old. She didn’t have to fake all her grey hairs any longer when going out into the muggle world, like she had to when she visited Steve.

When around the magically unaware Peggy needed to show herself to have aged as they expected. While she couldn’t do the magic herself the ICW provided her with means. Had she been casting the illusions herself she might have gone for a different effect but those in charge to her view had gone heavy handed with their efforts with her alter. They made her look so very old and frail. Peggy hated for the people who used to look at her with respect, as a force to be reckoned with to see her like that. The World Security Council, Pierce, Fury, and Shield members were bad enough but with Steve it was heart breaking. From Steve’s view seeing her so aged was heartbreaking as well. She could tell. 

Despite the pain being around one another caused they still talked daily and arranged visits. Fury had tried keeping her away from him at first but she hadn’t let that happen. She may have to appear old but she did not have to appear to have lost her edge. Peggy made certain she could be there for Steve even if she was expected to appear to him for the first time in seventy years looking ancient being pushed along in her wheelchair. 

Due to the fact that all of Shield knew she was declared paralyzed from the waist down she and Steve hadn’t had their dance yet, but Peggy was hopefully. Smith was working on getting clearance for Steve to be allowed knowledge of the magical world and when Smith set her mind to something it usually happened. Until then Peggy kept her chin up and carried on empowered by the hope that soon she would be able to drop the lies. Walking on her own too feet she would take him dancing in the magical world where she could wear her own face and talk openly without Shield listening in on every word.

Peggy didn’t expect that even once Steve knew the truth that they might try for the romance they could have had before but a dance and a friendship was more than she’d let herself dream of for decades. She’d happily take what she could and perhaps finally be able to finish mourning for what was lost.

“To stand at the side of the Shield and their heroes,” Smith quoted. “You know we suspect this to mean Fury’s Avengers initiative.” 

Peggy nodded. “And you expect Steve will be included in the rally?”

Smiths lips shifted down ever so slightly. Her mouth was usually set downward. Peggy could say with absolute certainty that she had never seen the woman smile. Smith’s amusement and pleasure only ever showed in her eyes and that was rare. Usually she presented herself as glacier to the world.

“Reports say that while Fury has not updated the Initiative’s public files since it was shut down by the World Security Council his own personal records have been altered to among other things add Captain Rogers to the roster. Even without the initiative it is also being spoken of as a forgone conclusion that Rogers will work for Shield after having some time to acclimate to his circumstances.”

Peggy frowned. Steve was a soldier with very clear opinions of right and wrong. She knew he couldn’t be happy long term working under the authority of Shield with the methods and compromises they would expect him to make. Even Peggy had grown unhappy in the last decades with what was being deemed necessary by the organization.

“What is it you want from me,” Peggy asked.

Before Smith could answer something Peggy could not see pulled the Head’s attention away.

“I’m sorry Councilwoman but I have to go,” Madam Smith apologized before quickly cutting off the feed.

***

There was more Harriet had intended to speak with Councilwoman Carter about but when Voldemort appeared in her doorway wearing an expression she had never seen on his face before she knew there was not time. The expression he wore was one of fear. Not worry or concern but primal fear.

“What is it,” she asked as she ended the feed.

“We’ve received word from our people in SHIELD. The Tesseract is acting up without any involvement from them. For now they are being cautious-”

“But the situation will continue to move outside their control… An evacuation will be called and Fury will go to the facility himself,” Harriet declared seeing it for herself as cast her Sight out through space and time, following their Agents at the compound and then Fury through their night until everything became obscured. 

The Tesseract always interfered with the Sight of Seers or at least every seer to work for the ICW since Johann Schmidt recovered it from where it was entombed. Very little of the magic that was tried on or near the Tesseract went as it should.

Whenever the Sighted tried to divine the Tesseracts secrets their vision would be cast out to seemingly random places in the universe. As traditional recon had proved fruitless work one Investigator tried to examine the Tesseract while in his astral form. This was back in the days when it was in Hydra hands. The Investigators goal had been simple. He meant to discover if the Tesseract was a magical or scientific artifact. Upon getting within three feet of the cube his astral form was transported off across the universe. He was projected so many miles away that it took him three years to get back to his body on Earth and report what had happened.

While they couldn’t See the Tesseract itself they could see what was around it. Through diligent work planning and ordering experiments to be carried out the Investigators were able to see what the results would be. What they saw caused most of those experiments to be canceled. Magic simply didn’t work right around the Tesseract. All were advice to avoid casting any spells around the device, to at all costs avoid casting magic on it, and unless you wanted to risk a journey to anyone’s guess apparition and portkeying within sight of the device were a no go.

Looking ahead to the future of the compound and those present at it the block Harriet was seeing in some hours time was not that of the tesseract. Nor was this the interference she received from the presence of a Wakandan. This block had the same feel as what she had been coming up against for the last month in trying to divine information about the prophesied war that was to come. This was the blizzard from her dreams earlier that night.

Focusing back through her physical eyes Harriet looked to Voldemort.

“I’m not certain, but I believe that is the way he will come. I can’t tell you a time. I can’t tell you if the army will come with him or follow after. But I believe his means of coming here will be the Tesseract.”

For better or worse her belief was all Voldemort needed. Nodding he asked, “What would you have us do?”

Leaning back Harriet searched herself. What did she want? What felt right? Even if she couldn’t See or consciously know as a seer her mind was connected to the very fabric of the universe. Her subconscious knew more secrets then she may ever fully realize. All the truths of existence were hers to know if she just knew how best to look for them. 

“Call on the seers, every last one of them. Tell them to focus on the Tesseract, the facility, and those there. Our sight may be interfered with but we can still infer some guidance from what we can’t see in relation to what we can. In the mean time send out word to those already on location. They are to be prepared to evacuate at a moments notice avoiding magical transport except for truly dire circumstances. Preservation of life is their priority. Contact MACUSA let them know we have a suspicion that New Mexico may be the epicenter for what is happening but don’t be specific as to the location. They won’t like it but it will keep them from showing up at the scene trying to pull rank and interfering with us while still getting them in the area as backup. Contact Neville and Luna. Put them in charge of setting up the layers of containment around the facility. Tell them to have a focus on preparing to drain the power output we may get from the Tesseract and move on from there. Give them preemptive approval of what requisitions they’ll want of resources or manpower to get it done even if it means recruiting form the outside. Then prepare a team for the possibility of entering the facility. You’ll be in lead.”

Her series of instructions went on from there with Voldemort listening attentively, retaining every word while working off her instructions to flush a his plan for what he and others would need to do to what Harriet wanted done. When she’d finished with her orders Harriet left it to him to take charge while she focused her sight on the future ahead, locked away in a room modeled after that which the Room of Requirement used to provide her when she went there looking for answers as a student.

Despite all the gifts Harriet’s blood and companionship had given Voldemort the Sight was not one of them. While his gift for divination was better then some it was by no means up to the challenge upcoming events posed but taking charge while Harriet was indisposed was something Voldemort was more than capable of carrying out. With so many already having reported in due to the alarm Harriet raised on her arrival Voldemort was able to quickly set things in motion. Neville and Luna were dispatched requesting Ron to come with and lead security while they focused on the magic which needed doing. With Ron went Voldemort’s top choice for his own team and a good number of the rest of their best. From those left Voldemort was still able to put together a capable group that would enter the facility with him if so ordered.

Once his chosen were made aware of their assignment and preparing Voldemort headed over to Hermione or as she was known when in uniform, Metis.

Back before Harriet got a say in things Agents of the ICW crafted their own disguises if they were capable and if not someone else would do it for them. Every detail of the face and body which they would wear when walking through the world as they alter persona was a choice. By the time Hermione had gotten to the scene Harriet had changed that. Those who entered service now had very little control over these things. A set of appearances were crafted for them using the alters of the person who recruited them and the person who approved their recruiting as well as their true face. The three were blended together in much the same way the looks of actual parents decided a child. Dominate and recessive genes fell into their natural place while the occasional mutation brought something new to the for. Of the options that were presented the new Agent would pick which they liked. For those unlike Harriet who might choose poorly when crafting a disguise the temptation to indulge in vanity or another vice was removed. In this way it was also easier for some agents to pass as family when undercover given the resemblance. There was also a benefit in that it made outsiders less likely to think those in the organization would turn on each other as they believed many were recruited thanks to nepotism.

Voldemort’s ‘uniform’ as many of the new blood had taken to calling alters had been the first to be crafted in this way. His appearance was a combination of his own human form, Harriet’s Smith appearance, and that of her former boss, one of the few men to have had authority over her and still treated Harriet as she deserved. Voldemort was… proud to carry on the man’s legacy in this small way.

Hauata was one of the very limited number Voldemort would honestly admit to respecting without it being a manipulation. He’d been a good boss, a good mentor and follower giving Harriet the guidance and the lessons she needed while listening to her wisdom in return and helping to implement it. He had also been kind and careful with Harriet when she had been in need of it. 

Voldemort’s alter stood as tall as Harriet’s with her blonde hair but brown eye and had the more delicate and endogenous features Haunta had chosen for himself allowing him to present as male or female as was needed for the occasion which is why Voldemort had chosen it over the other options available too him.

Hermione’s alter had been a blending of Smith, his, and her own natural appearance. The result was an alter that was slightly taller in height then was average for a woman with short straight blonde hair, brown eyes similar in color to Hermione though framed by a different shaped lid, Smith’s more stern features, and skin which was mostly the same as Hermione’s everyday in shade but with completely different scars and freckles, moles, and birthmarks.

Along with changing how alters were made Haunta and Harriet had changed how agents were assigned their code names. In the old days it was the most common and generic names of the world. When you had a Smith, Williams, and Johnson together it sounded like a bad joke so instead they now chose names with meaning, just not personal meaning to them. “My parents named me after…” type of names. Names which for being unique were less likely to be written off as fake because if you were faking an identity why draw attention to yourself?

Voldemort was Cal for meaning devotion so chosen by Haunta do to his devotion to Harriet.

Metis had been chosen for Hermione after the Titaness of Greek mythology so chosen by Harriet.

Much as was the case with her roll in Harriet Potter’s business as Hermione Granger, Metis was in charge of being the one to keep track of records and sorting through their intelligence. With the current emergency she had set herself in a work room with her assistants. Hermione was so involved in her work that she did not notice him enter. Voldemort left it to one of her underlings to alert her to his presence while he looked over some of the notes on the wall. 

Hermione’s current assignment was to take the reports coming in from their Seers and compare them against one another, using logic and Arithmancy to map out the common data points to see what was coming out to be the better and worse options to take moving forward. With time ticking on they were rushed but with a mind like Hermione’s and so many Seers able to offer their skills trends were already firmly revealing themselves as was clear by the many graphs and notes Hermione had spread over the walls of the work room. They weren’t encouraging. They spoke mostly of death and failure and what couldn’t be seen.

“We can’t act. Not yet. Not while he’s at the facility,” Hermione declared from behind him.

Voldemort turned to look at her, a frown on his face at the news.

Not sparing him a glance Hermione moved past him to make changes and add notes to the wall. Around them the other graphs were being altered by the others.

“Smith’s findings support this,” Hermione said starting on the defensive, knowing ‘John’ would trust Harriet’s word and judgment over all others. “If we enter now all we’ll get are funerals and this General using the Tesseract to run and run where too we have no idea. If we don’t go at him and leave it to Shield there will still be funerals… but not ours.” 

In years past such a concession would have been scorned by Hermione but since joining the ICW she’d lost that nativity. Hard choices needed to be made even if you felt neither result was palatable.

Taking a deep breath Hermione continued on, “And not as many. When he leaves the facility our Seers still can’t track him any better than they can with the Tesseract. Trying to follow after something you can’t see that that is actively discouraging you from looking at it is proving near impossible but if we leave him there may be a physical or magical trail we can follow through means other than divination. Given past experience once we are firmly convinced we won’t interfere in the immediate future that should cut down on the number of variables to let our people See more clearly.”

For a girl who once sneered at the subject Hermione had come a far way in understanding and accepting the validity of divination. However unlike the rest of them she never became overly attached to it which was good. She was there to see other methods of doing things and advice them which was best.

“Overwhelmingly we’re finding that we shouldn’t enter a confrontation while this General has the Tesseract. It isn’t just because of the deaths. We’re also getting reports that it would mean we ‘loose’ people. They aren’t dead but they aren’t ours anymore. Now that could mean the Tesseract sending people off across the universe-”

Voldemort interrupted, “Or it could mean mind control or corruption.” Causing them to loose people in the same way that the Dark had lost him when Harriet became his priority over himself and his ambitions.

Looking disturbed Hermione nodded. “Smith thinks it's a bit of both. Some lost to the Tesseract and some lost to something else. Even with her skill she can’t see it much more clearly.”

But Harriet was better at finding different angles to come at the problem so she might find the best perspective yet and shed some light on events going forward. If they waited to act if could give her the time she needed to unearth some useful revelation. Where other’s might simply declare their sight blocked Harriet would push until she knew the exact extent of what she could not see and infer from there. Her instincts in putting the pieces together were unrivaled as well. Hauata was the only one close that Voldemort had ever personally met with Luna not far behind him. While Luna was not be able to see far into the past or future with much detail she had an innate understanding much as Harriet did which made Luna very good at making instinctive leaps of logic to get her to the right answer. Sometimes she leapt so far it seemed to others she had gone to some alien planet. Unfortunately for Luna she was not as adept at translating what she found obviously sensible to others in the way Haunta and Harriet were capable.

“What about our people on the ground there,” Voldemort asked. “Do we pull them back?”

“Its still unclear. We don’t see trouble coming to those working containment as long as they steer clear and do not engage. For those in the facility everything is obscured once this General arrives. For now their orders stand to keep cover unless their life or the life of another is in mortal peril, help with the evacuation when the time comes, and not to engage.”

Voldemort considered this. “Is that Smith’s word?”

Hermione went a bit stiff. “No, mine,” she said tense.

“Then I would make a minor suggestion.”

Finally looking away from her work to face him Hermione met Voldemort’s gaze with an her expression of ‘I’m listening but ready to argue.’

“An evacuation may provide opportunity to gather supplies, intel, and assets. Our people might want to keep an eye out for such opportunities.”

Hermione made a face at the word assets as it was not a practice that sat well with her, but it was effective so she had given up arguing against it. “Very well. I’ll send the suggestion on but I don’t feel it should be a priority.”

“Agreed,” Voldemort submitted gracefully.

Looking back at the notes gathered he saw what Hermione’s latest adjustments revealed. A timeline. 

The majority chance was on the general arriving in approximately three hours time.

Three hours until they would be at war.


	8. The Previews

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The General is ready to put on a show but the Magicals aren’t willing to play part as his audience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you in part by “Physicist Breaks Down The Science Of 10 Iconic Marvel Scenes.” I was failing to find motivation to write after several false starts on this chapter but then I watched this wonderful both geeky and nerdy video and it spurred me on. It is also brought to you by Danci. Thank you for listening to me. You helped me to overcome my lack of confidence and keep trying with this chapter.
> 
> Also I got quite the cheeky little thrill from the chapter title and summary. I’m hoping at least someone else will get what I’m referencing. With that being said lets get this show started.

It had been a long time since Voldemort traveled to muggle Germany. The magical districts he visited at least annually for one reason or another but he had not traveled beyond them since he traveled as John looking for treats and experiences he could write to Harriet about. Stuttgart would not have been his first choice for a vacation get away but he was not there for pleasure. Shield believed they found the General in the city. It was their first lead since the man, proclaiming himself Loki of Asgard escaped the night before. Voldemort had been dispatched along with a host of others to bring him in.

Their Seers could not say whether the man really was the professed ‘god’ who by all reports was meant to be dead. Likewise they could not say whether the General was actually in Stuttgart or not, though there was something there blocking their Sight. Their intel suggested that the Tesseract was not in Stuttgart. That intel being the vague verdict of Harriet and others. Even Harriet with her superior gift for finding the truth could only say that she felt it likely, stressing that this was instinct and not a clear vision or sign to be interpreted. 

While Voldemort trusted Harriet’s instincts over most everything she found the lack of concrete insight frustrating and though she wouldn’t admit it, she was feeling vulnerable. Harriet hated when she could not See. From past experience she learned that very bad things could come of it. Experiences that left her very set that what she could not know with certainty should be tempered by doubt. No assumption too firmly held to. No plan made without a backup.

Harriet as the leader of their organization could not go to Stuttgart. Field work in general was off limits to her since taking her post. It chaffed her to send others off into danger while she stayed safely sheltered away but Voldemort was grateful for it. He would always prefer that others take on the risk and when a matter was especially sensitive that he see to it himself. As such he’d been on location when this General arrived. They relied on the muggle surveillance to keep watch over what was happening while Voldemort, Ron and the others waited behind the protections Neville and Luna had set up around the facility. They’d been forced to stand back and do nothing as they watched the man kill some and bring others under his control. This chaffed the likes of Ron more than Voldemort but they were equally displeased to part their protections allowing the General to drive away when Shield failed to subdue the threat with their P.E.G.A.S.U.S facility destroyed. Brought to rubble.

It was as the prophecy said.

The General shall come before the leader of Earth’s Shield,  
To make declarations of war  
The Shield will fail, the ground will crumble

The General may not have made formal declarations but he’d drawn first blood and his talk of subjugating the planet was paramount to it. Harriet was disturbed by his speech about ants and boots and freedom. There were some advisories Harriet could sympathize with. So far the General had done nothing to endear himself as others had in the past. That he utilized some method of corrupting a person’s agency didn’t help. Voldemort felt that perhaps this was a good thing. Harriet would carry out what needed doing with less guilt if the man was irredeemable. However, that the General could be Harriet’s father made the matter more complicated.

They still did not know what to think on that front. 

Something wasn’t right there but they couldn’t put their finger on it. All the pieces from Harriet’s dreams fit with what they knew of Loki… and yet.

Harriet insisted that it was not the time to think about it. They had other matters to attend to. Whether the General was her sire or not didn’t change that he was a threat. War was declared and life still needed living. At the moment Harriet was handling other affairs. With Blaise disguised as John Potter the two were finishing dinner with the Wakandan royals. There were very few Voldemort would trust to hold his place at Harriet’s side but Blaise was a capable enough actor and manipulator for Voldemort to be willing to hand the position over to him when it was called for. While Voldemort held down the fort to the rest of the world Harriet and John were about as they should be.

The Wakadan’s had wished to return home to their people but it could not be done. On Harriet’s recommendation the IWC had advised all the magical world to put a ban on travel. Everyone all over the world was to stay where they are, hunker in to wait. The more moving parts the harder it made the work to be. Also given the effects of the Tesseract there was also an advisory against any form of magical transport as they did not know if this General might do something with the artifact to cast its effects out on a wider scale.

The Wakandans could have gone against this. After all it was only a suggestion not a mandate. However, with all other Magical Authorities and Peoples, human and not, complying to the order it would have drawn attention to them to be the exceptions. As such they had reluctantly remained on British soil and as they were staying there was still a tour to see to. Blaise as John had taken care of the bulk of hosting duties leaving Harriet free to see to her more important duties as Smith before slipping off to join for dinner.

While she worked on winning over the Wakandans Voldemort would hopefully be bringing this General in but before they would move ahead there was protocol to follow. Ron and his team were working to secure the area of the city around the museum where this general was meant to be. Preparations were two fold with the muggles being subtly diverted away and a whole collection of magic being prepared from anti portkey hexes to works of sorcery to strip away illusions. Generally Voldemort felt weighted down by the tediousness of protocol but given what they were going up against in this case he was patient with it.

Still, by the time Ron returned to his side to give them the go ahead Voldemort was very much ready to act. Shield were on their way and he wanted this done before they got there.

“I won’t insult you by going over the plan again,” Voldemort told his people. “You know what to do. You’re capable of doing it. If you were not you would not be here. We need this done but don’t recklessly risk lives and don’t allow anyone to be captured or corrupted.”

Those around him nodded.

Inside the museum the General was wondering, not to take in the exhibits but watching the crowd. Observing the insect life if Voldemort was to guess. What his motivation for this might be was unclear to them. They’d looked for answers by gathering background on all attendees. None were magical. None were world leaders or particularly extraordinary that they could tell. What did he want there?

“Watch. Wait and see,” were Harriet’s orders. They were to take what time they had until Shield was closing in or Loki took action to observe.

With how long setting up their preparation had taken Loki was ready to act. 

His posture changed, taking purpose. 

He made to head down the stairs.

Voldemort gave the signal.

Knowing what parts they were to play all acted as they were meant to.

The fire alarm went off signaling to the guests to leave as near by the extraction team shut down all muggle surveillance within the museum and erect barriers around the confrontation zone.

On mass the Voldemort’s strike team emerged from the mirror dimension casting every method of disarming magic on earth. The General managed to keep hold of his weapon but only just. Taking advantage of this Voldemort appeared behind him in the gap his people had left in their spell fire for this purpose. Swiftly he brought his weapon down with the intention of disarming the General. Remarkably it worked. The scepter fell from the General’s grasp

The General’s surprise didn’t give him pause from taking action. Even as his main weapon fell he drew a concealed dagger to bare, turning it on Voldemort. The way he moved was an effort to maneuver the pair of them so he could reclaim the scepter. Voldemort and his people recognized the effort. The others ran interference, launching spells and projectiles to give Voldemort the time he needed to swing his staff down to the scepter, launching it across the floor and off the stairs to where the extraction team was waiting. Voldemort didn’t need to look to know they had gotten it. Conformation was whispered in his ear. 

As his team continued their fight against the General the extractors would if all went to plan take the weapon far from the General’s reach. They would be working to deliver it to one of their facilities where Fred, George, and a host of others were waiting on sight to begin examining it.

With the general shed of the scepter Voldemort retreated back to the line preparing to continue on the fight from a distance. From the mirror dimension one of his people opened the way for him closing it once he stepped through while another opened the way to his destination. But as he reappeared it was to find the general… had stood down. His dagger was returned to its holster. His hands were raised in surrender as his armor was banished away.

He made to speak but they did not allow it. Their restraints were deployed. The enchantments triggered they became animated as they flew through the air. Upon connecting to his body they moved to encompass him, contorting his body and then holding him in a position that would hopefully work to prevent an escape. Every inch of of him was held so he could not move. The last touch was a one way face plate, designed so they could see inside but the prisoner would be blinded to the world around them.

Avoiding names Voldemort declared, “You are being taken into custody as a prisoner of war. If you resist your capture you will be treated as a soldier on the battle field. If you submit you will retain the rights of a prisoner of the IWC. As a prisoner you are to be kept alive and healthy without suffering unjust punishment or hardship. If you understand this, please blink three times.”

From where he lay prostrate on the floor the General considered this before blinking the requested three times.

“As you have indicated to understanding please blink three times again if you are choosing to submit.”

Without hesitation he blinked again to indicate his submitting.

“Sic fiat semper,” Voldemort said sealing the agreement.

The restraints on the General glowed pulling from his magic to bind as the key to unlocking his restraints did the same while concealed in Voldemort’s armor.

The General’s face show surprised as he likely sensed what was happening to his magic.

Voldemort held himself back from taunting but only just.

“Get transport ready,” he indicated instead, speaking not to his group who knew to remain with the prisoner but to Ron on the outside.

“I’m afraid we have a problem with that,” Ron reported to him.

Judging by the interest on the prisoner’s face he could hear the words.

“Our coms aren’t secure in the prisons presence,” Voldemort said for the benefit of all.

“I figured as much,” Ron declared. “I have an update coming your way.”

Sure enough one of those on Ron’s team arrived. In his hand was a black vial, the sides of which were darkened to disguise what was inside. The vial was collected by one of his men and brought to Voldemort. Once in his hand Voldemort could feel that it was Ron’s magic holding it shut as he opened it with his own. Inside was the glowing wisp of a memory. Raising it to his lips Voldemort drank the memory and with it his instructions down. As the information became metabolized he sneered.

The muggles were interfering in their affairs.

As was expected of them Ron had reported to the World Security Council their capture of Loki and that as he was in their custody they would be taking him to one of their facilities. Instead of accepting this the Council was divided between those who were willing to see Loki disappear into their hands and those who wanted Shield to remain involved. The divide was almost perfectly between those who knew about magic and those who did not with only a scant few falling on the wrong side of the line.

Voldemort calmed some as he learned that Harriet in her wisdom had decided to allow this. Rather than compromising one of their facilities and allowing the General to potentially study the magics they used there they would allow him to be taken to Fury’s helicarrier under their authority and guard, locked in restraints Shield couldn’t hope to remove. Once he was there they would have an excuse to be on board, ‘working’ with Shield and the Avengers. If they decided this arrangement didn’t work for them then they would arrange for Loki to be moved into their sole custody under the guise of a rescue. If Fury tried the same thing they would reveal what he attempted to do and use it against him with the Council.

Then of course there was the influence of the prophecy. They couldn’t say for certain what was intended by the second half which spoke of the beacon and Shield’s heroes but being open to cooperation seemed the best way to fulfilling the prophecy in their favor.

“You got it,” Ron asked.

“I got it.”

***

Flying in one of Shields Quinjets didn’t feel all that unfamiliar to Steve. For all the difference in the in design a plane was still a plane. Sure, it was a faster, smoother ride then he was used to but watching the clouds go by felt much less unsettling then driving through the streets of New York seeing all that was changed compared to his memory of it.

Agent Romanoff was in the pilot’s seat. It was just the two of them in the jet. Steve had a hard time knowing what to say. What small talk did he know to fall back on that still applied? There were still sports teams and politics but he was out of the loop there and talking about the weather could only get you so far. Thankfully Romanoff was good at making conversation that didn’t become awkward and avoided things that might be uncomfortable for Steve. Given the info he’d been given spoke of her as one of Shield’s best spies Steve wasn’t surprised by her ability.

They were just passing over Europe when Romanoff had a message come through.

Steve did his best not to show it as he focused his hearing trying to pick up the words from the headset. Peggy hadn’t been able to come out and say it with their interactions being monitored but she gave him hints which lead him to believe that while Shied may have been her creation, she didn’t entirely trust those who had taken it over from her. Steve was still willing to work with Shield but having dealt with his fair share of leaders not worthy of their posts Steve wasn’t going to act on blind faith.

“Change of plans Captain,” Romanoff called back to him.

Getting up Steve made for the cockpit. Playing ignorant he asked, “Ma’am?”

“We’ve been downgraded to escorts. Someone else has already taken Loki into custody.”

“Who,” Steve asked.

“A former subdivision of Shield known as Buckler.” She was watching Steve from the corner of her eyes. “You’ve heard of it.”

Steve nodded.

They’d been mentioned in the debriefing packet he’d been given in regard to this Loki’s brother Thor but most of what he knew had come from Peggy. He’d video called her from his apartment after Fury’s visit. She’d looked tired, more so than usual but didn’t allow it to dictate her action as she debriefed him concisely on what she felt he should know. Even after all this time she let nothing get in her way. Not age. Not being unable to walk. That woman was still as strong as ever. It was both inspiring and heartbreaking for Steve see her spirit the same as ever but her body failing her.

Buckler had been Peggy’s project. One of her last before being forced into retirement. While Shield’s job was to deal with threats which originated on Earth her intention was for Buckler to focus on threats which came from beyond. After her retirement the division had been allowed to remain but was hamstrung, given minimal resources and power until Thor and his hammer happened. 

Buckler personal had been on sight but over ruled and sidelined through it all despite what they said proving to later to be wise. Shield had handled the event like spies which was not what the situation called for was how Peggy explained it. Given their mishandling Peggy was able to push for Buckler to be given autonomy and support separate from Shield so they could handle these matters going forward. Steve still wasn’t sure how she was able to push for it when she didn’t work for Shield any longer but some things he didn’t have clearance for. Peggy promised she was working on getting clearance for him but until then Steve was in the dark.

What he did know was that she’d succeeded. Peggy had gotten Buckler made into its own independent agency but there were growing pains. Fury and others in charge at Shield weren’t happy about forfeiting authority, resources, and knowledge. They were used to being the secret keepers looking into everyone’s affairs whether enemy or not. Now they were being told there was an agency that was none their business and they weren’t happy about that.

The Tesseract was a prime example. Despite legend saying it came from the space, from Odin and Asgard who they now knew were real, Shield had spent months insisting the power source and control over Project Pegasus stay under their control as it had been weaponized by Hydra in the past which was an Earth based threat. Some higher authority, Peggy couldn’t say who, had decided to leave the tesseract in Shield’s hands and here they were now.

Peggy seemed confident that had the Tesseract been moved into Buckler’s hands their people would have ensured things went right with Loki. It t seemed they were proving her right given that they’d managed to bring him down before Shield even got on site.

When they arrived to the museum where Loki was being held a team was there to guide them down. Waiting for them as they disembarked was a man tall and built enough to stand toe for toe and nose to nose with Steve. Most of his strawberry blonde hair was concealed by a face obscuring some of his face as well. Further covering his features were a pair of googles though Steve would make out a portion some nasty scars that his gear didn’t quite hide.

Looking around Steve could see the other personnel on sight were wearing the same googles. It was the only thing that marked them as a group as they did not bare any obvious insignia or have a standard uniform though they all appeared to be dressed in the same color scheme of neutrals with the occasional pop of white.

“Romanoff,” the man greeted with his arms crossed and his posture stiff. 

His confrontational demeanor had Steve flexing his hand on the strap of his shield. He did not look happy to have them there. 

“I want to make one thing very clear. We will not have the problems here that we did the last time an Asgardian came to earth. Not with the planet hanging in the balance. Buckler has the lead. What we says goes. Shield is support, transport, and nothing more. Do we have an understanding?”

Breaking his stone facade the man raised an eyebrow challengingly at Romanoff.

Curious how she would react Steve turned to find her wearing an easy smile. 

“I’m just here to drive,” she assured.

“Good,” the man said sounding accepting. Instantly his posture relaxed some. He turned to Steve and raised a salute. “Captain.”

Not knowing the man’s name or title Steve saluted in return with a polite, “Sir.”

With that settled the man turned beckoning them to follow as he led them inside.

“We have the area evacuated and cordoned off under the cover of a terrorist threat. All security cameras have been disengaged so you don’t have to worry about the news of Captain America’s return showing up in tomorrows paper,” he said giving a look over Steve’s suit. The set of his lips was pitying.

“Do we know why Loki was here,” Steve asked.

“We didn’t have a clue until a couple minutes ago.”

The man handled a tablet over to Natasha. On display were a series of images and surveillance footage of what appeared to be Agent Barton.

“One of the guests tonight was Doctor Heinrich Schäfer.” Despite sounding like he was from the states the man’s tongue worked around the name with ease. “He owns the Schäfer Institute whose store of Iridium was being stolen at the exact time we were apprehending Loki. Taken by a team Agent Barton appeared to be heading.

Reaching out the man swiped at the screen bringing up the image of a device.

“We found this on Loki’s person when we took him in. From what our people can tell it’s designed to… capture an eye sending the information needed to create a facsimile elsewhere. The easiest way for Barton to get to the Iridium would have been to trick the retina scanner which would have required Schäfer’s eye, which was here, where Loki just happened to be. We believe the plan was for Loki to acquire the eye during the heist sending the needed information there way. When he failed to follow through on his end Barton resorted to a back up plan.”

Romanoff was silently studying the information handed to her leaving it to Steve to ask, “Casualties?”

The man frowned before forcing it off his face. “Seventeen.”

“And how many taking down Loki,” Romanoff asked lowering the tablet to hold at her side rather than returning it to the man.

“None,” the man declared, sounding oddly unhappy about it. Before either of them could ask he explained, “The moment it looked as though Loki was approaching the civilians we moved in. We disarmed him and he immediately surrendered.”

“That easy,” Steve asked skeptically.

The man shrugged. “We could speculate that it was because he was out numbered, but the man’s part of a race that consider themselves gods and he wasn’t exactly hiding. Currently the leading theory is he wanted to be caught.”

Romanoff and Steve shared a look as the man moved slightly ahead of them to meet the guard who was watching the door ahead.

Correcting Steve’s assumption their escort introduced, “Romanoff. Captain. I’d like to introduce you to Deputy Director Cal. He’s running security for the prisoner.”

Raising his googles Cal offered them a polite smile. He didn’t look like much. Despite being tall he wasn’t particularly muscular and further had a pretty face free of any scars or previous injury. But then Natasha and Peggy didn’t look like much by most people’s standards either. It didn’t stop them being formidable.

Turning from them to his compatriot Cal placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and instructed, “I’ve got things from here. Go oversee the sweep of their guinjet. The boss wants us out of here as soon as possible.”

The man who’s name Steve still did not know gave a nod of acceptance and nod goodbye to the pair before heading back the way they came.

With some of his congeniality fading away Cal put his attention back on the pair. “I understand you are both professionals but I want to go over some things with you. The first is we don’t talk in front of the prison unless-”

The man suddenly cut off as his hand went to his ear but Steve could hear nothing like a message over coms coming through.

His face now pinched Cal asked, “Miss Romanoff, were we meant to be expecting Iron Man?”

***

Voldemort was not pleased. Working with a seasoned Soldier and Shield operatives was one thing. Spies though they were he trusted his people to maintain secrecy against them. Dealing with Tony Stark was another entirely. The only authority he would listen to was himself and worse he was an impulsive, inquisitive genius who was as bad as Voldemort himself when it came to his desire to know things. 

Stark was expected to be on the helicarrier helping Doctor Banner to find the Tesseract. Not out in the field flashing smiles as he completely disregarded the orders he was given! They weren’t to talk around Loki as they did not want to risk something they said being used against them. But did Stark care? Of course not. He was talking incessantly. The fact that others were respecting the rules and not talking to him only seemed to insight further. And then there were the questions. Questions about everything. How did Loki’s restraints work? Why was he in a cage given that he was restrained? How had they taken him down? Where was Loki’s staff? Well, if they took it away how was he to analyze it? On and on and on and worse peeking the Widow and the Captain’s curiosity as well.

It was only his love for Harriet which kept Voldemort from arranging the billionaire’s ‘accidental’ death. He couldn’t even entertain himself with imagining it as he usually would with someone so insufferable as Voldemort couldn’t afford to divide his focus under the circumstances.

Small mercies Stark was willing to fly as escort to the quinjet rather than attempting to force his presence on them inside. The Captain and Agent Romanoff were far more willing to keep their mouths shut and their focus attentive to the mission. Unfortunately it seemed to Voldemort the fates were not with them this day as the peace did not last. They had yet to clear German airspace when an urgent word to them form Hermione about a change to the future their seers had observed. Namely their plane disappearing for some time only to reappear crashed when the future returned.

Ron from his place besides the Black Widow barked out orders, “Land the plane.”

“What? Why,” the Widow asked.

Ron, Voldemort, and a few others from the guard on board glared at her insolence.

“I believe we had a conversation about following orders,” Ron chastised. “Now land the plane!”

“Given that one of our top Agents was compromised it feels prudent to check whether orders are coming from the proper authority Sir,” the Widow replied with some bite.

Outside came a crack of thunder. The instruments on the quinjet began to read out warnings.

“We have interference similar to that given off by Thor’s hammer in New Mexico. It could be a similar weapon or Mjolnir itself but whatever the case we want on the ground now. Here,” he explained rapidly while pointing to out a landing sight to the Widow who had already their descent.

She nodded her understanding and focused on the work.

“I’m sorry for,” Ron started to apologize.

“Later,” Voldemort scolded. “Romanoff stay in your seat. Be ready to take off again if so ordered. Lance, take my place. Captain at my side. Everyone else, remain with the prisoner. You know our priorities, stick to them.”

There were ‘yes sir’s all around as the Captain readies his shield and Ron left the cockpit to take Voldemort’s place in the formation around Loki’s cage where the god of mischief was looking decidedly anxious as the storm outside grew worse with lightning cutting across the sky and thunder rumbling angrily through the air.

“Let us out then lock this jet down,” Voldemort ordered. Activating the com which would allow him to speak to Stark, Voldemort had time to say, “Stark. Get down here now.”

Following his orders Romanoff had opened the way for them and changing at them like a missile was a blur of red cape. The God of Thunder himself. Raising his wand which was illusioned to look like a rather futuristic gun, Voldemort intended to shoot the god back. Before the spell could leave the tip however one of Iron Man’s repulsor rays blasted Thor in the side sending him hurting off into the trees, away from the jet. A moment later came Stark soaring after him with the good Captain his tail running off to follow despite his orders to stay at Voldemort’s side. It seemed even seasoned super soldiers could not be expected to obey orders.

If he’d had the time Voldemort would have sighed to himself about this being one of those days. The days that tried his patience and tempted his sadistic desire to indulge in torture. Just a few quick Cruciatus curses to bring people in line and vent his frustration. Instead he continued to bark out orders to their other escorts and backups, his temper getting the better of him as he stalked after the three until Harriet voice came over the line soothing him and bringing calm control as she took over as leader, directing everyone as she felt best.

Continuing to trudge off on foot Voldemort followed the sounds of battle and trail of destruction to where Stark in all his arrogance was taunting a god while Thor in all his temper allowed himself to be goaded and the Captain who was youngest of the all in experience tried to interject sense. Sense was not to be had here however as it was one of those days.

The mighty Thor, God of Thunder, a Prince and a warrior over a thousands year old brashly ‘put his hammer down’ on an unknown.

Driven with the might of an Asgardian Mjolnir met a vibranium shield braced by the human race’s first super soldier.

The effect was spectacular.

On reflex Voldemort raised a barrier to protect himself. His mind was occupied with other things. Miles away in a country hidden were deep deposits of vibranium waiting to be mined. He thought he’d asked for enough from the Wakandan’s in their deal but seeing the Captain’s shield stand against the might of a magical weapon had him salivating at the thought of what they could do with more. In his mind he could see Harriet outfitted in a suit of vibranium armor and he became determined that one day he would see it so.

As the dust settled the soldier, the man of iron, and the god stood in the epicenter looking around at the destruction and at the perimeter where Voldemort a host of magicals stood dispersed and at the read ready to attack.

“Enough,” Harriet declared, her voice ringing out through the clearing as she appeared striding out of the tree line as Smith, Head of the ICW’s Investigators and Enforces, and more recently Director of Buckler.

“Thor Odinson, Prince of Asgard I assume,” she asked.

Looking uncertain and tense the god shouted back, “Aye.”

“Well then. Despite Asgardian law prohibiting the visitation of your people to this planet this is twice in recent memory that you have come to Midgard. Twice now also that you have attacked our citizens. The force you have used here today would have killed the average human, something you should know all to well. My hope is that despite this murderous aggression there has been some misunderstanding but given the lives your brother claimed and his declarations of war I fear I’m hoping for nothing.”

Thor shifted some showing to Voldemort that Harriet had done well in inspiring some shame in him. While Harriet did not give out her easy smiles and open nature as Smith her sincerity and conviction was not lost to this form. While her face stayed impassive she could not stop her eyes from being expression. Even unable to read Thor she was still able to effect him.

Tracking over the perimeter Thor took in all of those armed around him as well as Stark and the Captain before returning to Harriet in her guise as Smith. All were prepared to continue on with the battle if need be.

“The last time you were here you swore to the Son of Coul that you would be Earth’s ally if what was taken from the Lady Jane was returned. Her supplies were returned to her and when Loki came to earth she was moved to ensure her safety. We honored our agreement. Will you honor your word? Are you here as hero? Or as a villain?” 

Putting the final nail in the coffin Harriet asked, “Does Asgard mean to wage war on us?”

“What,” Thor asked confused.

“Loki has declared war against Midgard but he has yet to state for which power he fights. Does he fight in the name of Asgard?”

“Asgard has no quarrel with earth,” Thor declared relaxing his stance.

“And you? Do you have a quarrel with earth?”

Thor stood tall. “I have come here to deal with Loki. I mean no harm.”

“If that is the case, then please prove it. As a show of good faith put Mjolnir down and come with us peacefully.”

Thor eyed Stark and the Captain again before nodding his assent. Despite combatants at his side and more all around him Thor let his hammer drop. Given that he could reportedly summon it back to his hand it wasn’t much of a concession but it was something.

With sure steps Harriet walked down to him.

With a giddy anticipation in his gut Voldemort watched as without hesitance or arrogance she stopped besides Mjolnir and picked up the hammer. Thor’s reaction to this, his expression at another being worthy was something Voldemort would treasure always.

Harriet allowed herself some moments to trace a finger over the surface of the legendary artifact. Said to have been forged by the Dwarves of Nidavellir in the heart of a dying star, granted its power by a cosmic storm which had been bound to the Uru from which it was made by Odin himself. So fierce was the storm it was named the God Tempest. If this mythos was true then the hammer was a very apt weapon for a God of Thunder. If the legend was true. Asgard had been known to distort the truth to the point of fairy tale; dubiously useful for its life lessons but far from historical fact.

“It is a fine weapon,” Harriet complimented, her tone soften with affection in a way she never allowed herself as Smith. Closing her eyes she set the emotion aside then looked to meet Thor’s still wide with shock eyes. “We will treat it with the respect it deserves until we are feel it is safe to return it to you.”

Still looking at Thor she requested, “Captain Rogers. Mr. Stark. If you would please escort the Prince we have a second quinjet waiting to take him with us to the helicarrier.”

“What about Loki,” Steve asked eying Thor.

“We have him in hand.”

“And who are you exactly,” Stark asked giving ‘Smith’ a sweep up and down. Smith who stood taller than Stark in his suit and in competition with Thor in height.

“Smith, Director of Buckler,” Harriet explained. Steve instantly stood a little straighter. 

“Fury’s foil then,” Stark said. “Interesting…”

He gave Harriet another look up and down and Voldemort sneered.

With his inspection done he reached out and thumped Thor on the back earning himself a glare from the god. “Come on Reindeer Games.”

“This way,” Stark asked pointing off to the east.

Harriet nodded and the three headed off with Thor and Captain Rogers both bowing their heads in respect as they left and receiving the same respect in return.

As they made for the perimeter Voldemort’s headed to Harriet side.

Taking a risk he erected privacy barriers to ask, “What is your plan in putting those three together? Loki is muzzled so he can’t talk. Thor is not. He could reveal us.”

“But due to the protections on Thor we can’t know that will happen. And if it should we can’t risk a mind like Stark’s with obliteration when he isn’t a proven threat. Then there is Rogers, who I’ve already been trying to get permission debrief. If he already knows they might as well accept it,” Harriet explained.

Voldemort smiled at her.

“And how exactly did you know you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself with the hammer,” he asked with some excitement, his eyes traveling down to the weapon, still in her hand. Ideas were whirling around in his head. That Harriet was worthy seemed further proof that this was indeed Loki, the Asgardian Prince they were dealing with. Loki, son of King Laufey by birth and son of King Odin by bond. The implications! “Do you think this means you can take the Asgardian throne?”

Harriet rolled her eyes and sighed with exasperation. “So eager to burden me with a crown.”

“No head is more worthy nor would carry power so well,” Voldemort declared his side in an old argument, dismissing anything else as a possibility.

“First you dreamed of making me the Queen of Wakanda and now you aim for Asgard,” Harriet asked taking off for the quinjet where the General, Ron, Romanoff, and his team were waiting. Voldemort kept to her side, falling into step with her.

“At least this throne would not require a political marriage.”

“No, only to wage war on one of the most feared realms in history.”

Voldemort kept his mouth shut on what he wanted to say. Instead he asked, “What were you able to gleam from the hammer? Can if offer us a look at some of what has been denied to us?”

Harriet shook her head, “Asgard and its people are still blocked from my Sight but Mjolnir is sentient to an extent and has retained an impression of all who have wielded it or attempted to do so since Odin’s curse was placed, as well as those it has been used against.”

“Useful information,” Voldemort said with appreciation. “But not so useful as to be worth you’re coming here and exposing yourself.”

“I didn’t come for the hammer.”

“Then what?”

“After Loki submitted to your custody a new vision of the future solidified in my Sight, one which was disturbingly certain to come. In the vision there was war monument filled with millions of names. It was only when I set myself to coming to handle things in person that this future became less likely. No other variable I looked for would change it but me. There is a chance now to see less lives memorialized. A slim chance that monument may never be built.”

Voldemort thought of the prophecy calling for the beacon’s involvement to bring about a favorable conclusion to this conflict. “Earlier I though perhaps the fates weren’t with us. Now I wonder if things aren’t going exactly as they intend.”

Having nothing to say to that Harriet changed the subject. “Any progress dissecting the measures on Loki that are blocking us.

With a frown Voldemort admitted, “No. If he is the God of Lies and Manipulation he claims to be, I wouldn’t be surprise. The way he’s layered protections over himself is clever and deceptive. I’ve made almost no progress on piecing it out.”

“Let us hope I have better luck then you,” Harriet said as the back of the Quinjet opened their way to Loki. She frowned at her likely sire. Her first sight of him as their prisoner. 

For all that he was physically blinded to the world it didn’t stop the General from looking their way as they were revealed. It did not stop his eyes from widening as he took in Harriet and the hammer in her hand.

“Well, your eyes are better than mine,” Voldemort said with a frown firmly on his face, “and it seems his are as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *“Sic fiat semper,” Voldemort declared.   
> Which according to google is Latin for ‘so mote it be.’ I didn’t want to use ‘so mote it be’ as the binding phrase since while it’s used by Neopagans I don’t remember it having roots in Harry Potter canon. However I figured by translating it to Latin that made it Harry Potter like and worked as good as anything else. As I don’t know Latin I had to trust google on this.


	9. Everybody’s on the Helicarrier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody’s on the helicarrier. Well, everybody but Hawkeye. If he wants to join he’ll have to gate crash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!Warning!!! This chapter contains spoilers for the Captain Marvel movie. I tried to keep it realistic to the conversation while leaving out major spoilers to the plot but it does reveal several points about the film. I’ve managed left out the major twists though.

They’d only just landed on the helicarrier when Fury tried to exert his first small measure of control. A team of exclusively Shield personnel waiting to escort the prisoner. However Harriet had no intention of allowing Fury even this. She dismissed his team, making it clear that her people and only her people would be having anything to do with Loki.

“There’s no need for this,” the leader said with an easy smile tainted by the sense of superiority radiating off of him. “We all want the same thing here.”

Harriet merely stared on at him waiting for he and his team to move off as instructed.

“At the least let you need us to show you to where we will be holding him.”

“We don’t need an escort,” Harriet assured. 

With a glint in his eye Voldemort tacked on, “We already know the way.”

Once Shield had gotten out of the way Voldemort’s team worked on unloading the General in his cage while the rest of Buckler’s quinjets came in to land around them. As Harriet had sent orders out through the coms during the flight their people disembarked knowing where they belonged and what they were to do. The bulk would be staying with their transport or at least presenting the illusion they were. Shield would see them milling about and checking over their crafts while in truth many would be hidden from sight to keeping guard and traveling the helicarrier engaging in a bit of espionage. Other than Voldemort’s team there were only three exceptions.  
Hermione had been with the scepter leading the study of it before they landed. Thanks to magic she didn’t need to be with them for the flight. At the last moment she used a portkey to take them from their facility to the quinjet. Along with her had come Ginny. As part of flushing out their training new recruits were assigned to tail more senior members. This day in the roster Ginny had been assigned to Hermione.

Harriet could have made a change. She could have placed a more experienced wand hand in Ginny’s place. Ron certainly would have preferred it but despite his objections regarding Ginny she was competent if a bit insolent and over confident. Despite her faults Harriet trusted Ginny to understand the gravity of the situation and fall in line. Hearing that the General was mind raping people went a long way towards that. It had been a long time since Ginny was a naive first year who put too much faith into a journal. She’d managed to heal from the trauma well, but the grudge she had against magics which violated a person’s mind or will had never and would never fade.

While Harriet and Voldemort went with the General’s escort to his cell, Ginny remained with Hermione who was to work with Banner and Stark on finding the Tesseract. Ron meanwhile would be keeping an eye on Thor. The Asgardian Prince may have been willing to forfeit his weapon but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still be a threat. Harriet didn’t want them to appear overtly hostile with him but she did want to keep a close eye. With her own and Voldemort’s occupied Ron was Harriet’s most trusted soldier and so the duty fell to him.

The helicarrier’s detention sector was empty until they arrived at the room which contained the cell the World Security Council had sent them for. Having been built for the Hulk it was being loaned out for the General as it was believed to be the most secure in the world. A ridiculous idea as the cell was made to contain an entirely different kind of force but Fury was good at getting his way when he wanted and had convinced the council that the cell which just happened to be in his domain was their best bet.

“Director Smith,” he greeted as Harriet led the march inside.

“Director Fury,” she returned.

His eyes sliding past her Fury took in their prisoner. He tried not to give anything away with his face but Harriet didn’t need expression to get a read on him. Satisfied though he was to see Loki chained and he wasn’t happy with how it had come about.

“Fury,” Harriet said calling his attention back. She tilted her head towards the cell. “If you could get the door for us?”

***

Up on the bridge the Avengers were watching. Watching with them were Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Since getting recruited Ginny had been exposed to all kinds of muggle spaces and tec but the helicarrier was still far outside her experience. In design it wasn’t so foreign but the idea that it was traveling through the sky on nothing but machinery with no magical support or failsafes was boggling to her.

From where she stood at rest by Hermione’s side Ginny took in the room with interest. Thanks to her goggles there was much more she could see then with her naked eye. The lenses came from old Unspeakable research that they’d selfishly kept for themselves until Harriet pried it out of their hands. The glass was designed to allow those not naturally gifted enough to open their inner eye to see the world as though they could. It was limited. Compared to someone like Harriet and other Seers they were only slightly better than blind but it gave them a taste. They made auras were plain to view and most illusions could be spotted even if it Ginny could only see a hint of the truth the illusion was hiding.

Personal, after growing up friends with Luna and Harriet Ginny loved getting to see some of what they’d always been describing. Once she got the hang of it she found herself wanting to wear them all the time. Sadly they were only for when she was on duty.

The only illusions Ginny was spotting on the bridge were coming from expected sources. Namely herself, Ron, Hermione and three of the spies the ICW had within Shield. Their true identities hidden by their alters the spies were scattered among the real Shield agents clicking away on their computers. There were two more on board that Ginny knew of and dozens through out the organization. Most had been planted there by Peggy Carter during her time as Director. Those she’s brought in were almost exclusively squibs and low level magicals like herself. Since taking over at the ICW Harriet had been working on getting some people in with greater magical ability but it was hard going. One didn’t exactly apply to Shield. They went looking for those they wanted to recruit. That didn’t used to be a problem but after Carter lost what control she had left most of the people they’d had with high authority in Shield had been removed along with her. They had no one left who could go recruiting more magicals into Shield.

Outside of their people Thor was the only other magical but for all that he was proclaimed the God of Thunder the only interesting thing about his aura was the occasional likeness of lightning branching out at the edges. The only real surprise in the room was Banner. His aura was something different. The closest thing Ginny had to compare it to was a werewolf on Wolfsbane on the day of a full moon. 

Ginny was hoping that at some point she’d get a look at this General to see his aura for herself. Word was that along with the magics which hid his identity there was something in place to obscure the truth of his aura as well. Or that’s what they were assuming was causing the abnormalities that were reported. It was yet another mystery to frustrate and intrigue Hermione. Unfortunately aura couldn’t be by a camera. Colin was working with twins to figure out how it could be done but they’d yet to have any success. Leaving Ginny to have to make do with descriptions unless she could see it for herself.

With care the John’s team was checking over the cell Shield was providing for the General’s stay while he stayed by the cage and Harriet waited next to Fury.

“The report said he turned himself over,” Fury said, speaking to his fellow Director.

“It's not like he walked into a station to turn himself in,” John cut in.

A look from Harriet made him hold his tongue from carrying on. Ginny couldn’t help wondering if the moment was organic or an act the pair had planed. She use to think the twins were as close as anyone could get but Harriet and John were just as bad only in a different way. The twins were two of the same while the Potters were yin and yang. The twins were mirror images going through life in perfect symmetry. Harriet and John were dance partners moving in sync. From the outside it was impossible to tell who was leading. It was the same whether they were being themselves or Madam Smith and her loyal second Cal.

Ginny tried not to be jealous but even after all this time she was. It wasn’t that she wanted Harriet or even John. She’d gotten over those bouts of infatuation years before. She just wanted someone she could mesh with as well as they fit together.

While Fury forced Harriet to deal with his attempts at manipulation and posturing Ginny listened with half an ear while she looked over the Avengers imaging how well she might ‘mesh’ with each of them. After all, where else was she going to meet anyone when work took up most of her life?

***

“It won’t be happening,” Harriet said, a hint of her temper leaking out to be seen.

When Fury raised an eyebrow at her show of emotion she had to fight off a glare.

“We are dealing with a man who is reportedly known across the universe as a cunning trickster, God of Lies, and we know he’s a magic user with possible capabilities to tamper with the mind.”

“His weapon,” Fury started to say.

Voldemort snorted the way Harriet wished she could before sarcastically returning. “You’ve already tried that card Director. You may be convinced that the staff is connected to the Tesseract and what’s allowed Loki to abscond with Barton and the rest but we’re not.”

“Yes, Cal, thank you,” Harriet cut back in giving him a look for show before turning back to Fury. “The prison is to remain chained and muzzled. We will not risk otherwise.”

Fury wasn’t pleased and he was not a man to accept things he wasn’t happy with.

Wanting to be done with this Harriet reached up to her ear pretending it was necessary to engage her coms. “Lance.”

***

With the audio streaming through the bridge they’d all heard her just fine.

Reaching up to his ear the same as Harriet had to perpetuate the ruse, Ron responded, “Yes ma’am.”

“Have you begun you're questioning yet?”

“No ma’am,” Ron answered turning to look at Thor who was watching him the same the rest of the Avengers. “Not yet.”

“If you could start now by asking Thor what his brother is and isn’t capable of.”

Ron gave Thor a vaguely imploring look.

The muscle bound god did not hesitate to share what he knew. 

“She is right to be concerned. Loki has mastered all manor of sorcery and tricks. He has earned his reputation for manipulation,” Thor admitted with some shame.

“So probably best we keep him as is?”

Solemnly Thor nodded in agreement.

***

Harriet didn’t bother to relay what had been said to Fury. She was sure he had someone whispering in his ear and even if he didn’t he should know what the answer would be. With half an ear she listened as Ron’s interview with Thor continued. The voices other Avengers and Hill cutting in as they pleased coming through clearly over their coms. Thankfully she was used to dividing her attention and was able to keep up appearances as she faced off with Fury.

“We need answers,” her fellow director said, some of his own anger and frustration shining through.

“And we are working on getting them,” Harriet said reasonably. “We are currently interviewing the only person on this planet with personal experience of the prisoner. Our people have been examining the weapon he brought with him to earth since we acquired it and have found that contrary to the theory you and your people have been working on it is not in fact powered by the Tesseract.” 

From within the cell Harriet could see the General’s expression shifting in surprise at that revelation and she realized that thanks to dealing with Fury’s stubbornness she’d possibly given something away with no idea if it was important or not, in their favor or the making of their ruin.

With greater frustration coming out in her tone she continued.

“And we have your experts on board using Shield’s extensive resources to find the Tesseract. While we have other methods available to us we will not take the risk of removing that muzzle just so you can do what is comfortable to you as a spy. Engaging in interrogation and trying to ply pressure on a person from another planet we have no true frame of reference properly understand!”

Harriet could feel her people looking at her. She knew if he was at liberty to Voldemort would be placing a hand on her shoulder to offer support and comfort. Men like Fury were exactly the kind she hated. He was too much like Dumbledore. Thinking himself self aware but blind to the worse of his flaws. Always thinking he knew best and reaching beyond the authority afforded to him by his position and meddling in others lives because of it. Driven by his arrogance and paranoia he dispensed information sparingly while hoarding his wealth of knowledge to the detriment of all. The man had more secrets than even Harriet and Voldemort who appeared to live a double life but in actuality were hiding far more. The layers of identity they had protecting their truth was like Russian nesting dolls. One inside another inside another over and over and yet Fury still out did them!

She’d known all along what kind of man Fury was by standing there facing him made it so much worse. For while Fury kept one eye hidden Harriet only needed to be able to make contact with one to passively enter his mind. Had she been digging around for information even a muggle like Fury might have felt that something wasn’t right but by letting his thoughts flow naturally he knew nothing of it. His mind was hers to read and what she saw infuriated her more than most things managed these days.

There are so much she wanted to say to Fury. There was a epic telling off in her that just wanted letting out. She wanted to throw in his face that for all he and his preached of peace they fell back on violence and compromise again and again. She wanted to tell him about all the problems Shield claimed to be working to fix that her people had found to have originated from their earlier efforts to fix a different problem. And the lies. So many unnecessary lies and harmful manipulations. So much that Fury viewed was justified never doubting that perhaps he was seeing it things wrong limited as he was to one good eye. Harriet’s perspective was aided by her Sight and that of hundreds of others Seers. She could see all the ripples in the pond that Fury made but wasn’t aware of. She could see how many better ways there were for him to do things. But that wasn’t the worse of it.

The worst part about it all was that Harriet could see that like Dumbledore, Fury truly had the best of intentions. At his core he cared for and was scared for his people, their planet, and all of humanity. He was a good man. A good man who was scared and jaded, who wanted things to be ‘right’ so badly that he set his gaze off to the final destination, cutting a straight line for it leaving him blinded by his refusal to look down and see all that was wrong about the path he had set himself on.

It was so much like Dumbledore. Dumbledore who for the greater good had allowed an innocent child to be left to grow up where he knew she would not be cared for properly. Dumbledore who felt certain she was a horcrux but rather than telling her so Harriet might find another way told Snape so he might lead her to making the ultimate sacrifice when the time came. Dumbledore who left a monster with a blood quill loose on his students because he was prioritized the troubles beyond those halls. Dumbledore who sent children off to face horrors in the name of making them into heroes. Dumbledore who was memorialized the Leader of the Light.

There was so much Harriet wanted to say to him but just as she had with Dumbledore, she held her tongue. Of course it would be satisfying to give him a telling off, to try to hurl insights and truths at him in the hope that something would make an impact but would it be productive? She didn’t need to look into the future to know it would not. So, with well exercised patience she reigned herself in, but only just. She allowed herself to say what needed to be said and nothing more.

“This is my prisoner Fury. As such I will be handling him and his brother as I see fit. Whether you like it or not doesn’t matter. They are both not of this world and there for firmly in my jurisdiction. Not yours. So if you would, kindly go see to your duties and leave me to my own.”

***

Entering the bridge with Coulson at his side Stark whistled. 

“Is that Fury being told off? Seems I missed something worth seeing.”

Ginny smirked. “I’m sure we could get you a recording if you’d like.” 

She could feel Ron holding back from giving her a look for that. He had advised her to mold her alter to be quiet and unintrusive but Ginny didn’t much care for that. She thought to take a page out of John’s book. It certainly seemed more fun to have a chance to be snarky and say what she wanted to say, drawing attention to herself and in doing so pulling it away from others.

“The point is to be different from how you normally are,” had been Ron’s reply to that.

Stark smiled at her. His eyes only quickly scanned her over but not the appraising way he might have before his former secretary became his girlfriend.

“And what put America's top spy at odds with Director of the Man in Black,” Tony asked.

“Men in black,” Thor asked confused.

His question was ignored though it seems Rogers would have liked for it to be explained.

“It has been decided that Loki is not to be interrogated,” Ron announced.

“I guess it will be up to the two of us to find the Tesseract then,” Tony accepted easily as he headed around the table heading for his fellow genius. “Its good to meet you Doctor Banner. Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled. And I’m a huge fan of the way you loose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster.”

Ginny’s esteem for Stark dropped instantly. She looked at him disbelieving of what had just come out of his mouth. Turning to Ron she found him hanging his head in amused exasperation while beyond him Hermione more reasonably glared openly the billionaire’s callousness.

“Thanks,” Banner managed to force out.

Rogers, considerate soul he was and not interested in riling the beast in the man, tried to change the subject away from the threat Banner posed.

“The iridium they stole. Is there anyway we can use that to find the cube?”

“We believe they took the iridium to use as stabilizing agent,” Hermione explained to Rogers, drawing a few surprised looks from around the room.

Stark gaze her a looking over appearing speculative.

“Stabilizing agent,” Roger’s asked understanding the words but not how they applied in this context.

“It means,” Stark said. “That the portal won’t collapse on itself like it did at Shield. It also means the portal can open as wide and stay open as long as Loki wants. The rest of the raw materials Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. Then all they’ll need is a power source of high energy density. Something to kick start the cube.”

“Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?”

Banner who was fidgeting as he thought answered. “He’d have to heat the cube to a hundred and twenty-million Kelvin just to break through Coulomb barrier.”

“Unfortunately that may not be the case if they know how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect,” Hermione revealed.

Stark’s look her way this time was one of surprised pleasure.

“Well, if Selvig could do that, he could achieve heavy ion fusion at any reactor on the planet,” Banner said with concern.

“Finally, people who speak English,” Stark proclaimed practically beaming. He squeezed Banner on the shoulder before moving around the table making for Hermione.

“Is that what just happened,” Rogers asked.

“That’s actually something we could use a hand with,” Ron said looking over at Maria Hill, Fury’s second in command. From what Ginny had heard she had not by the director’s choice but the council’s appointment. “You’ve got more man power and more eyes in more places than we do. With so many locations to check and secure we’d appreciate a hand.”

Hill was looking like she would give her agreement but before she could Fury arrived on the bridge with John trailing half a step behind him. Once those two arrived it made things rather more complicated then yes or no with a slew of questions being asked. Taking a break from it John turned to Ron. “Aren’t you meant to be interviewing the Prince?”

“Yes Sir,” Ron nodded. Moving towards the table he gestured for Thor to join him. Moving stiffly the God of Thunder took a seating. Sitting forward in his own seat Rogers prepared to take an active part in the conversation while the famous Black Widow quietly remained where she was to observe.

John turned to Hermione. 

Beating him to it she said, “And I should be getting Doctor Banner back to his work before catching him and Stark up on what we know.”

Having reached were they were gathered by the command center of the room Stark asked, “And you are,” while giving Hermione a slower look from head to toe than he’d given Ginny. There wasn’t much to see. Hermione wasn’t dress to impress in any way wearing a white button down tucked into her pants which were tucked into her combat boots and a simple jacket over that. Unlike the rest of them she was choosing to present herself as unarmed.

“Head of Buckler’s research department,” was her polite but lukewarm response to Stark’s inquiry was. Looking away from him to Banner she asked, “If you’d be willing to lead the way Doctor.”

“Of course,” Banner said making a gesture for one of the halls off of the bridge.

As Hermione strode off towards him, Stark lingered nosing around at the screens.

“Stark,” Hermione called back to him when it was obvious he wasn’t coming.

Giving her a smile he made to push off from where he was leaning but not before his hand slipped underneath placing something there. Ginny pretended not to notice while she collected Hermione’s cases from the floor.

“Are you a researcher too,” Stark asked as she fell into step with him.

“Nope. Metis is the brains. I’m just a lowly grunt,” Ginny admitted with mock sorrow.

Stark smiled at her but his attention quickly slid by her landing on the conversation happening ahead of them as Hermione filled Banner in on what Buckler knew so far about Loki’s scepter. In the small window of privacy Ginny had she threw up a spell to hold back the sound of her voice and then an illusion so none of the cameras could see she was talking. Over the coms she sent out word about what Stark had done and one of the Agents ghosting around the bridge reported that he’d look into it.

Once they were in the lab the three of them might as well be speaking Gobbledygook for all the sense it made to Ginny but as she didn’t need to understand she didn’t bother asking questions. Instead took her station guarding the door and became a part of the scenery, blending into the background while the geniuses did their thing. Ginny had always known Hermione was smart but she had never really thought of her as a genius; not until seeing Hermione slotting in effortlessly with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Two men who Ginny heard referred to as geniuses about as often as she heard their names

It wasn’t until all the other business was out of the way that Hermione brought up what Stark had done.

“What,” Banner asked while Hermione and Tony eyed each other.

“Stark connected his interface to Shield’s systems when we were on the bridge. Given that it's only a matter of time before they realize what you’re up to, is it safe to assume you started running a decryption program right off?”

Looking a bit smug Stark had no shame in owning up to what he’d done. He brought up a display of the progress he’d made so far before turning the screen around for them all to see. “In a few hours, I’ll know every dirty secret Shield has every tried to hide.”

Ginny was impressed.

Hermione was not. 

“Don’t exaggerate,” she told him distractedly as crossing her arms she walked over to look over the data. Banner hesitated a moment before joining her. When Hermione gave no reaction to his entering her space the good doctor’s nerves settled allowing him to focus entirely on the display. Personally Ginny was happy having some distance between herself and the man who made werewolves seem harmless in comparison. She didn’t understand how Hermione could take having him standing next to her so calmly and it wasn’t even an act! Her aura showed no sign of distress. Awareness, check. She knew Banner was next to her but she didn’t seem any more effected by it than she would anyone else.

“They’ve got plenty more secrets you won’t be able to get at,” Hermione promised Stark, “and as much as you might want to look down on them they do have some of the best minds in the world looking to protect those secrets.”

Tony frowned at her. “Not good enough to keep me out.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. Now that they were talking about things she actually knew something about she was done being one with the scenery. “Yep. Congrats. You failed the test.”

With his smugness becoming a frown, Tony turned to her. “Test?”

“It takes level five clearance to be allowed on this helicarrier,” Hermione explained plainly with most of her attention still on going over what Stark had managed to get so far. “Most Shield agents believe six is as high as you can go. They don’t expect people who they trust enough to let on board to pull crap like this. Given everything that originally got you denied for the Avengers Initiative this was your chance to prove to the naysayers that you wouldn’t do things like this,”

“…And I failed the test,” Tony said absorbing what this meant.

“Yep,” Ginny said. Coming up she patted consolingly on his hand. “Don’t feel too bad about it though. Life’s easier with Shield approving of you but it's not so bad being on the outside.”

Tony raised an eyebrow at her. “Speaking from experience?”

“Yeah. Sadly -or rather not- once we left the house the Dads cut us off. Buckler doesn’t get any info or support from Shield these days.”

“Dads,” Tony asked. “As in plural.”

A plummeting sensation hit Ginny’s stomach as she realized she’d said something she shouldn’t. She looked to Hermione and saw she was being leveled with an extremely displeased look. Ginny imagined were Hermione not currently in uniform her hair would be fluffed up and frizzed to the nines.

Both Stark and Banner looked between them. 

“Fury… and who,” Banner asked.

Still giving Ginny an unhappy look Hermione apologized, “Unfortunately that’s not something we can share with you.”

“And what can you share,” Stark asked.

Rather than shutting him down Hermione asked, “What were you hoping to find?”

All three of them were surprised. Ginny looked at Hermione wondering what she was up to.

Then the voice of ‘Smith’ spoke in Ginny’s ear. “Careful you two. Fury and Romanoff are watching. Get Stark and Banner in the know but don’t give too much away,” Harriet advised.

Stark declared, “I want to know why Fury’s only calling us in now. The homework I got was very careful to describe Shield’s desire to use the tesseract as a sustainable energy source. I do consulting work for them. I’m kind of the only name in clean energy right now. Why not pull me in for this?”

Banner was playing with his glasses. His gaze was miles away as he thought.

“It’s bothering you too,” Tony said, challenging him to disagree.

Tapping his fingers on the frame of his glasses Banner explained, “When they brought me in Natasha claimed Shield’s known where I was all this time. If they think its worth the risk working with me now…”

He tilted his hand, letting finish the thought to its end for themselves.

“For whatever reason Fury’s brought you in now I can tell you The Hulk has been listed as a potential Avenger for longer than the Iron Man,” Hermione told him.

“An Avenger,” Banner said testing the label. The guy was looking tense and agitated and his being tense and agitated made Ginny match him. She looked to Hermione but she still didn’t seem effected and neither did Stark. 

Uneasily Ginny took a step back.

“Yeah. A bit of a boy band Fury was putting together,” Stark said.

“The Avengers Initiative has been Fury’s pet project for decades now,” Hermione cut in to give them a less colorful description than what Tony had planned. 

As she presented information new to Stark as well he let her take over, shutting his mouth to listen.

“The names on the list have been edited a dozen times over but he’s never been given permission to go ahead with it. He’s using this situation and the emergency powers it offers him to get it you a trial run as it were. To prove you could work as he claims you could. And incase that wasn’t enough he sent Captain Rogers off to Germany in uniform for the publicity in the hopes that if the Avengers are known and a comfort to the public his superiors won’t shut be able to shut the project down if they still want to when this is done.”

“But why this,” Banner asked gesturing between himself and Stark. “Fury has an entire organization of spies and soldiers. Why does he need ‘Avengers.’”

“He says its to deal with problems beyond the norm. That are beyond what the ordinary spy or soldier is trained to handle.”

“He says,” Stark pushed.

Looking away from the display to meet Stark's eye, Hermione repeated, “He says.”

Through Ginny’s earpiece Smith’s voice came again. “Lance is on the way for the scanners Metis. You should have less then two minutes before he arrives,” her tone wasn’t happy about not being able to give them more certainty.

Abandoning Stark’s investigative efforts Hermione returned to the area of the lab she had claimed for making her own little work station having set up the equipment and devices she’d brought with her. Computing devices that the likes of Stark and Shield and other outsiders would never be able to hack as their operating systems were designed by magicals and the hardware protected by magic. Ginny was told it had been a bugger to figure out but beyond being able to use the things she had very little understanding of the intricacies that made them work.

Following Hermione, Stark asked, “Any more secrets of Fury’s secrets you’d be willing to share with the class.”

Banner followed a few steps behind.

Hermione’s eyes flicked up to them before focusing back to the work at hand, checking over the scanners to make sure everything was in order. “I may not work for Shield but I do work for a secret organization. Respectfully we aren’t meant to go blabbing what other agencies have deemed classified information.”

“So what was that over their then?”

“That was me, answering your questions as I have been ordered to do,” Hermione explained. Looking up she held Stark’s gaze. “I have been ordered to share any and all intel I have that may aid you in finding the Tesseract as well as answering your questions.”

By her tone and her face you would think it was really that simple for Hermione but thanks to her goggles Ginny could see the vindictive streak in her aura. Much like Harriet -and honestly every one else Ginny had met since being brought in to work for the ICW- Hermione did not care for Shield, Fury, and how they chose to go about their work. Stark was notoriously trouble and it seemed to Ginny that Hermione had orders to point that trouble in Fury’s direction.

A light went on in Stark’s eyes and his aura gave a little flare to match as he understood the message Hermione was trying to send. “The Tesseract then. What’s its deal? Why didn’t Fury bring us in on it?”

Hermione went back to her work treating what she was about to say as if it this wasn’t information Shield would have probably been willing to kill to protect. “Fury didn’t lie. They were looking to use the Tesseract for sustainable energy. What they left out of the debriefing packets they gave you was that they were looking with the goal of sustainable weaponized energy. Replicating the work Hydra did and expanding on it. The files you’ll be looking for talk about it as Phase 2. A rather innocuous name. I suppose who ever chose it may have been taking inspiration from the Manhattan Project.”

Stark leaned back while Banner moved forward.

“They want to make a bomb using the Tesseract’s energy,” he asked.

Having finished with the scanners and put them in their case Hermione braced herself as she looked up to focus on the conversation. “Bombs. Plural I’m afraid.”

After a beat Stark moved back to pace about the lab. While Hermione’s eyes tracked Stark but Ginny’s attention was on Banner. She did not like the way he was breathing. How worked up he was by the news. Her hand slipped to her wand but it wasn’t the comfort it usually was trapped in a room on a flying metal box with a man who as Stark put it had a way of turning into an enormous green rage monster. She’s seen the footage and memories of what the Hulk could do. She had no interest in witnessing it for herself first hand.

“Breath,” Smith’s voice said soothingly in her ear.

On command Ginny took a deep breath and only as she did did she realize her fear had paralyzed her into holding it.

“You're triggering the Hulk more than Hermione’s news. See that shifting in his aura? The hulk presence pushing Banner aside?” Ginny could see it. “It's only getting worse the longer your hand is on your wand. Banner is seeing it as a gun and that’s making the Hulk see you as a threat. Take your hand off your wand.”

Before following orders Ginny used the contact with her wand to cast a spell to contain her voice and an illusion to hide the sight of her responding as she had in the hall on the way to the lab. Then, stiffly she pulled her hand away and watched as Banner took a few deep breaths of his own, loosened his stance, and turned his back on her to focus on the conversation going on between Hermione and Stark.

Ginny crossed her arms to avoid reflexively reaching for her wand again.

“Can you See if Banner’s control will slip,” she asked seeking the comfort of knowing everything would be fine because Harriet saw it would be so.

“The protections on the prisoner extend much farther than his person. They are obscuring most of the ship’s future. Just keeping track of everyone in the moment is proving hard.”

Ginny swallowed taking in the news. “So we don’t know what’s coming.”

“…No, we don’t,” Harriet said measured. “Which is what good training, preparation, and team work is for. Hermione knows how to handle the Hulk if things go wrong. Stay at her back, follow her orders, and everything will be alright.”

The comfort she offered was hollow to Ginny knowing Harriet couldn’t see it was so.

While Ginny had been distracted the conversation had stayed focused on the Tesseract.

“When your father first recovered the Tesseract there were those than that wanted him to figure out how to use it for similar purposes, but he refused. Having helped create the first nuclear bombs he reportedly wasn’t interest in making something more destructive that could have even worse unforeseen repercussions then the last. He genuinely pursued the goal Fury is using as a cover. He wanted to use the Tesseract for the betterment of mankind. Not the betterment of our killing capabilities. For a long time there was little progress until a Doctor Wendy Lawson joined Pegasus to study the Tesseract. She had a break through and was working on figuring out how to harness the energy to create a light speed engine.”

“Light speed,” Stark asked intrigued. “That wasn’t in the notes.”

“It wouldn’t be,” Hermione reported. “And it won’t be in the files you're accessing either. Most of the information about Pegasus and other truly important Shield files are hidden behind level seven clearance.”

“So…,” Banner’s head shook minutely as he tried to process this. “Are you saying Shield had access to light speed technology and weapons hidden away at the Pegasus facility.”

Hermione frowned. Her genuine grief contorting her expression and aura. “Sadly no. The Doctor was on the right path but before she could see it through she was killed with most all of her breakthroughs being lost with her.”

“Killed? Killed by who?”

“A soldier from an alien race,” Hermione started to explain but was interrupted by Stark.

“Wait. What? The files said Thor and New Mexico were our first contact.”

“Like I’ve stressed several times now, most of the important parts of events are hidden behind level seven clearance.” Hermione waves her hand. “Or there is never any trail left as to what really happened. Not even Fury’s in on all of Shield’s secrets.”

While that hung in the air the doors opened allowing Ron in his Lance alter to enter flanked by the Super Soldier and the God.

As he took in the room Ron made his way over to Hermione. 

“This it,” he asked gesturing to the case.

“Yes,” Hermione said, her mouth open to continue when Stark interrupted again, earning him a displeased purse from Hermione.

“And what is this,” Stark asked nosing in as Hermione closed the case and handed it off to Ron.

“Scanners which will hopefully give us some further insight into the prisoner,” Hermione answered. “Recalibrated specifically after the initial readings that were done when he was captured.”

***

Taking the case from Hermione Ron was very happy to leave her to Stark’s questions as he beat an escape from the room. Thor followed him as he’d been asked to keep close by Ron and Steve moved along with them. Ron wasn’t sure why the famed Captain was sticky by. He hadn’t been asked to but Ron supposed maybe he felt the need to keep an eye on Thor personally since as far as he knew he was the only one around who might be able to match him without a suit of armor.

Even though the two men could probably kill him with the strength they had in a single pinky Ron found himself at ease, getting along well with the pair. He’d expected to like Steve. He knew the man’s story. He had been there when Councilwoman Carter was told of his recovery and that he was still alive and heard her tell Harriet about the man behind the legacy. Everything he’d heard about Steve made him seem like the kind of man Ron would want to buy a drink. Thor was a different story.

Ron hadn’t expected to like Asgard’s eldest Prince. Everything he’d heard previously about the God of Thunder made him think Thor would be the kind of man Ron would want to punch in the face after a few drinks. He’d pictured someone unthinking of others, only focused on their own pleasures and glory but Thor seemed genuinely upset when hearing of the lives Loki claimed and Selvig’s being taken by his brother. And while he had gotten hammer happy when he first showed up Thor hadn’t shown any signs of aggression since, he was cooperating fully with them, and it had been Stark to land the first blow. Despite what he expected and despite not wanting to like him, Ron was being won over by Thor. When everything was over he didn’t think he would mind offering to buy him a drink along with Steve.

“What will these scanners be looking for,” Steve asked, thankfully only interested in a general idea and not all the science and details like Stark.

“That’s Metis’ department. Not mine,” Ron explained apologetically. The truth was he didn’t fully understand it and what he did was based on magic he couldn’t tell Steve about.

“Than why does she not bring them. Is she not a warrior as well,” Thor asked.

“She’s a warrior,” Ron felt the need to defend. “She has the training and the heart but her job is to stick with Banner and Stark, and as they are needed in the lab that’s where she’ll stay.” 

Along with finding the Tesseract it was Hermione’s job to keep an eye on Banner incase there was a Code Green. Just the same as it was Ron’s job to keep an eye on Thor encase he caused trouble and John was tailing Fury encase he failed to accept Harriet’s authority.

Up ahead the path to Detention was being blocked by three of Ron’s people who were being watched by two Shield agents who through they were being inconspicuous standing in the hall with papers presenting themselves as being in deep conversation. The Shield agents clocked Thor, Steve, and Ron as they passed giving them polite smiles. They even managed to present the right look in their eyes, but their auras told a different story. A story Ron very much didn’t like the looks of.

Having been ordered to do so by Harriet the guards moved aside allowing Ron’s trio to pass before moving back into position.

The rest of the guards past that point were hidden from sight or observing from mirror dimension. Ron was surprised that Steve seemed to sense the eyes on him he couldn’t see while Thor continued on seemingly oblivious. Ron expected better from a warrior of a magically aware society, with an illusion gifted brother, who’d managed to survive over a thousand years of legendary adventures.

Inside the room which held the Hulk’s cell which was currently holding the prisoner there were illusions around to give the appearance of a guard presence but Harriet was the only one still really there. Ron didn’t like it but Harriet wasn’t willing to risk anyone else being so close to the threat because if Loki was able to get out of those restraints he truly was a threat no human could handle. Not even a magical one. But it was Harriet’s belief that she would have the best chance of any of them as a witch with the Sight and Frost Giant blood in her veins who currently in possession of Thor’s hammer.

While the hammer was a comfort to Ron’s worries over her he felt the least she could have done was to keep a few guards close by in the mirror dimension but despite being her Head of Security her veto overruled him.

“Ma’am,” he greeted.

“Lance,” she returned bowing her head. “Captain Rogers. Prince Thor.”

“Ma’am,” Steve returned with quick respect while Thor said nothing. His attention was captured by his first good look at his brother bound and held in a cage.

“Do we need to get Fury to open the cell,” Ron asked despite knowing the answer.

Harriet was watching Thor as she moved towards the control panel. “No. Despite the effort put into designing the cell to keep what’s inside from breaking out it isn’t all that complicated to open the way if you’re on the outside.”

“Over confident,” Ron said with a shake of his head. At Steve’s questioning expression he explained. “The cell was designed for the Hulk. Not a detainee you expect to have allies willing to get near enough to help him escape. But, there are those that would risk it to get their hands on him. Considering that, Shield should have made it as hard to break in as out but they figured no one would ever get past them to get close enough to be a concern.”

“No outsider has managed to break onto one of their helicarrier before. Let alone Fury’s flagship,” Harriet pointed out. As always making a point of understanding the other side.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Steve said studying the room and cell with a new eye earning him an approving look from Ron and Harriet both.

“If you could please move back from the cell,” Harriet requested of Thor.

Begrudgingly he complied falling back to stand at Steve’s side while Ron moved over to Harriet. 

In a show of ability that was almost unheard of she wove an illusion over the pair of them as he walked. Naturally creating a cover that allowed her to take the case and the form of Lance from Ron while setting him to replace her as Smith so she might enter the cell while leaving everyone not in the know to think Ron was the one doing it.

“Be careful,” Ron imparted.

***

“Yes Director,” Harriet returned bowing her head to Ron.

As she made for the cells Captain Rogers asked, “Need a hand?”

“I’ve got it,” she promised him with a reassuring smile.

As she entered the cell where the General’s cage was held Ron sealed the way behind her.

Setting the case she carried down on the bench Shield’s engineers had built into the cell. She retrieved the equipment that was inside before one at a time bringing them over to attach to the cage. Once connected she got them started on reading the General. The first scan they had attempted at the museum gave them nothing as the protections he had in place interfered with the results. Combining Hermione, Voldemort, and Harriet’s insights they had adjusted the scanners to hopefully receive better results in understanding the protections and booby trap their prisoner might be sporting so they might begin removing those obstacle. 

Once everything was set into place there was nothing to do but sit back and wait. Ron was under orders not to open the cell until things were finished. He tried to argue that Harriet should not wait inside with the General but Harriet felt the increased there was an risk of something wrong the more they introduced moving parts and opportunity. Besides, if something went wrong the glass would do little to stop Harriet from escaping. And besides, she had Mjolnir singing in her hand as an ally at her side which according to Thor Loki could not wield. If things went wrong she might be able to trap him in place by dropping Mjolnir on his chest as Thor had done before.

“This will take some time. If you’d like feel free to take a seat, or find a place to lean,” Ron offered to the other two without doing such a thing himself.

The two looked at each other before settling in to stand. In the cell Harriet rolled her eyes at the pride and posturing. Needing to prove they didn’t need to rest while another stood. That they were warrior enough to stand at attention. Thor spent most of the waiting time looking near or at the prisoner. The General had already proven that having his physical sight blocked didn’t stop him Seeing. He likely knew his brother was there and looking at him but he gave no sign of it, choosing to ignore Thor instead.

They all waited, without making conversation until the devices had concluded their work. Having to force herself not to race over Harriet moved to collect them and check the results. With her back to the outsiders she allowed a smile to spread across her face as she packed the equipment away.

As she headed for the door Harriet met Ron’s eye. They couldn’t do their normal checks in front of the muggles so instead she opened her thoughts to him allowing him look inside just enough to check she was herself and of sound mind. Once he was satisfied he opened the way for Harriet to slip through before the door could fully open. Fast on the draw Ron closed the door as soon as she was clear.

With hard won ease from years of diligent practice Harriet extended the illusion as she walked to Ron’s side to allow them to hand off the case and switch identities back again with the movements Steve, Thor, and the cameras picked up looking natural.

“All done ma’am,” Harriet said in Lance’s voice as the transition happened before using Smith’s to continue. “Thank you Lance. Once you get those back to Metis I’d like you to do a check on security. See that everything is in order.”

“Yes ma’am,” Ron replied with a bow of his head. 

“Come on boys,” he instructed Thor and Steve as he left. 

Steve lingered watching Thor who was given one last long look at his brother before turning to follow Ron. With Thor moving Steve gave one last look to Loki as well, then a “Director” in farewell to Harriet before leaving.

Harriet waited until the guards informed her they were out of the restricted zone before sending out an order to those who were moving about the aircraft unseen. “I want the room. Take over the feeds.”

As confirmations came in Harriet waited for the work to be done as the cameras and surveillance equipment that was obvious and those which weren’t were overridden to show and tell exactly what they wanted it too. As far as Shield would be able to tell Director Smith was standing guard along side her people. All silent as the patiently kept their vigil. In the mean time, Harriet newly armed with the answers she needed would be getting to work unraveling the protections over the General.

Working through the cell wall would made it harder but with the cage and restraints answering to her authority the task was feasible. Rather than unraveling from the edge she slipped through vulnerabilities in the array to attack them at their core where the connection and overlap was surprisingly at its weakest.

Harriet was loath to make assumptions but more and more it looked as though the General was indeed Loki as he claimed to be with the scans having provided even more evidence. They couldn’t tell Harriet much about the man beneath the protections he had in place, but the magic in use were telling.

While Asgard toted themselves as a race of warriors magic was in everything they did in the same way that vibranium was woven through Wakanda’s culture. Asgard was unique in this sense and it provided them great protection. Their weapons were laced with magic and wielded with might. Might which came from good genes, the magic that ran through every Asgardian, and the technological advancements they had made over the years. Technological advancements that were as supported by magic as their weaponry leaving it out of reach for replicating and reverse engineering by those outsiders who only understand magic or the science but not both. And all of this Asgard managed only by ensuring that every last person who called themselves Asgardian had access to magic.

In the days before Odin this goal was aimed for by breeding. Asgard encouraged its citizens who could not find a magical mate within their own race to explore the nine realms looking for those of magical baring they could reproduce with in the hope of siring children with Asgardian dominate inheritance that were of magic. Those children who took after their Asgardian parents were brought back to the realm eternal. Those who were not were most often left in the realms of their other parent.

These methods worked. Asgardian stood a mighty race with only a small percentage of their number muggle or squib. In return their genes were cast out to races of the other realms lending them benefits as well. But it was not enough for Odin. Odin wished for Asgard's might to be supreme. He wanted to ensure that every Asgardian had access to magic without having to share their physical blessings with the other races. In time he found a way. That way was the binding. Every Asgardian was bound to the royal line, Odin and his line and through this binding they were bound to each other. For those who were born without magic this gave them access to it as the magic of their entire race was distributed evenly to all. But that, was far from all it did.

While the binding made the Asgardian race stronger as a whole it meant there were none of extraordinary might outside of the royal blood. By enacting the binding Odin assured that none of his people would have the might to match him or his children for they were the anchor of the spell and as the anchors did not share their own magic with their people for a part in the equal share. As they could not be matched, they could not be opposed or over thrown by their own who might try to enact a coup or revolution. And should a threat from another race try Odin and his would have the power of their people to draw from to bolster their own individual might.

The man in the cage, the prisoner, the General was such an anchor. His magic was his own but the might of Asgard was tied to him. It was a lesser tie than Thor’s but a tie nonetheless. To protect against interfering with the binding and one of Odin’s heirs a base of protections was put in place around it. As the years past all future protections were built on that strong foundation. This should have made it impossible for even the likes of Voldemort in his prime with all the magics he knew and sacrifices he’d be willing to make to lay the man vulnerable but fortunately for Harriet this foundation once strong now lay damaged and fragile.

Someone had been working to remove strategic protection from this foundation. From the holes left behind Harriet believed that the General had been stripped of several means of tracking and protections for his mind. The first Harriet could understand him possibly doing this himself, but the second she could not and given the presence of the scepter she felt there was reason to suspect this had been done outside of the Generals informed consent. For the moment her focus was on the fact that since those protections were removed the General’s magic had begun attacking the others, weakening them. Harriet’s felt this was unconsciously motivated. The man no longer wished to identify as an Asgardian and acting on that will his magic was working on ridding him of the magics which marked him as one and Harriet? She was happy help.

Behind his mask the General’s eyes went wide as he felt what was happening. He responded to the attack on his defenses. He tried to stop it but his restraints kept his magic from responding as he liked. With his own magic hamstrung he tried calling on the magic of Asgard but the binding was to damaged and the first point of Harriet’s attack. Once it fell the others cascaded down after it. Centuries of work falling away in minutes to leave the man vulnerable.

Harriet allowed herself a smile as for the first time she could See the General clearly.

“Hello Loki,” she said, her heart singing at having this made right, at being able to know rather than assume or guess. “I think you and I should have a talk.”

By Harriet’s will the bars of Loki’s cage moved with the magical grace. Unfolding and flattening they lay themselves out across the floor, freeing him but still their as a trap ready to be sprung if he misbehaved. Likewise the restraints over his body gave up their rigidity. They stayed over his body, embracing him, ready to lock him into position if need be, but for the time being they were flexible, allowing him to move about as he pleased. This included the band which had been holding his jaw shut which loosened freeing him to speak as the faceplate pulled back.

The first thing he did with his new freedom was to glare at Harriet. She hardly cared though. His expression hardly mattered to her now that she could see his aura which was always much more telling. He was trying to contain himself, trying to control what she could see now that magic was no longer doing it for him, but something things couldn’t be well hidden by will alone.

Sneer still in place the General rose from the floor with almost as much grace as the bars had sunk down to it. He worked to thoroughly dust off and adjust his clothing before standing tall and asking, “And I thought you said I was not to be interrogated. Is that not what you told Fury? Or was that a lie.”

A voice made small by Harriet’s locking such thoughts away whispered, “These are the first words your father says to you.”

She saw the Loki’s eyes tighten as he took in the fluctuation to her aura. According to reports the man was not a Seer but he had proven that did not stop him from Seeing and as such Harriet could not afford to indulge thoughts like this. Utilizing her Occlumency abilities she worked to better shut them away. 

James Potter was her father. His first words to her were, “Hello little girl.” She had seen Sirius’ memory of it. She had watched as her fell more deeply in love with her as his daughter the longer he held her in his arms. Whatever Loki may be, Prince of Asgard, Progenitor of her existence, it didn’t change that. James Potter was her father. The man before her was the General who would lead an armor against her planet. 

Using these truths and her vision of the war monument to seal any feelings and distracts she might have about what this man might be away.

“Not a lie. I told him that his people would not be interrogating you.”

“No,” he countered with a cruel smirk, “I believe what you said was that I was to remain muzzled.”

Harriet nodded, “As we could not understand you well enough to know the kind of threat you posed. Now that your protections have been removed, our ignorance and with it the risk has been lesson.”

Loki eyed her skeptically as he stalked closer to where she stood at the door of his cell. Though he wasn’t looking at his feet each step was perfectly placed to avoid where the bars of his cage were laid out on the floor. Like Harriet he did not need to look at his feet to see it as they eyed each other through the glass.

“Yes, you witches and wizards of Midgard have come far. Much farther than I was prepared for. You have my compliments. Not only did you manage to capture me but you removed magics placed by the All Father himself. Something that even I thought impossible.”

Harriet’s ego wasn’t stroked by this. Dismissively she replied, “You submitted yourself to detainment. As such it will never be known if we could have captured you or not. As for the protections, the work was already started for me. I merely took advantage of the damage already done.”

Loki’s head turned to the side while his eyes stayed on her. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t know,” Harriet said taking in the edge of his aura where the more mercurial emotions showed themselves in thin boarders and flashes of change. She could see his control failing to stop the surprise, suspicion, displeasure, and a dozen other emotions flickering into existence only to be squashed down. Flooded out they disappeared beneath a tide of anger and rage. Suppressing more telling emotions in this way was a basic but effective Occlumency technique. However it was one most masters didn’t rely on as it made for poor emotional control and affected your ability to think objectively, beyond the emotion. 

From all she knew about Loki of Asgard he was meant to be a master. However it seemed something was affecting his ability or perhaps affecting his desire to use it. Harriet itched to understand why. She could almost feel it. A phantom sensation pulled from the memories of her puberty when the smallest thing set her off in the worst of ways. Cursing her skin to prickle. Consuming her with the need to scratch.

It seemed not only Loki’s control was being affected. Harriet usually did a better job of containing herself. Something wasn’t right and needing to understand she divided her attention between unraveling Loki and exploring herself.

“What is it you think I don’t know,” Loki said with superiority but his aura was still all anger and rage with the occasional flashing of suspicion and denial.

“Protections which appear to have been with you most all your life were removed some time within the last year, though it does not appear to have been done too recently. When they were removed nothing was done to replace them or compensate this weakening the array. While neither the scans nor I can pinpoint exactly when it happened judging by what should have been there it seems the measures which would allow Odin to find even in the most hidden of places were removed as well as all the spells, hexes, and curses which were put in place as the first line of defense for your mind.”

Giving the matter no time for consideration Loki spit out, “You lie.”

“Why,” Harriet asked calmly in the face of the accusation she knew to be unfounded. “Why do you assume so? Is it because you are certain such a thing would be impossible or is it something else?”

Loki turned away from her as he fell into introspection and Harriet was pleased. Had his mind been tempered with seeing the work undone would be easiest if Loki was aware and wanted rid of it.

By the time Harriet realized something was wrong outside the bubble of their room it was too late to change it. With Loki’s protection interfering with her ability to look into the future of the ship and those on it she had stopped wasting her energies trying to look. When the protections were removed her attention had been so focused on Loki and herself in this room all alone with his past and the answers it held beckoning to her that she had little to spare on the rest of the helicarrier and what the future help for it. This had been a mistake.

It was only because it was so ingrained in her to look after the safety of her friends and her people when they were on missions that she got any warning at all.

Instinct flared and Harriet turned her Sight ahead.

“Explosion imminent. We are to be boarded,” Harriet shouted out over the coms for all on the aircraft and those monitoring the situation back at base to hear.

There was only a second for them to process the implication of what she said before Agent Barton who was still under Loki’s control despite his separation from the scepter was hitting the button which set off his explosives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its a cliff hanger I'm sorry *ducks for cover. When no cups come flying peaks back out.* Um, I'm also sorry this took so long. My health has been a major hurtle lately. In all the time I only managed to write one page despite sticking with it and trying each day. Then I got two goodish days and wrote it all. I hope you liked it and I really hope you'll leave comments. They really are what keep me going and keep me thinking about this story when life gets in the way.


	10. We All Fall Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barton has begun the assault on the Helicarrier to get Loki back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Takes a deep breath then looking around with nervous eyes swallows, takes another deep breath and looking down proceeds to spew out words at a thousand miles an hour* Okay so this is a chapter and I can’t tell if its good or not. I mean I like it but I’m scared that its stupid but I’m hoping at least some of you like it and it's my story so I get to do what I like right? Right. So here it is. *Proceeds to dive off the stage and hide behind a curtain.*

“Explosion imminent. We are to be boarded.”

Seeing Ginny’s wide eyes Hermione knew she would be too shocked to get protections up in time. Making her choice Hermione cast a shield on her friend first before turning her wand on herself. There wasn’t enough time to do get a shield up on herself though. When Harriet said imminent she meant imminent. Hermione could feel the primary explosion in the distance and in the next breath it was coming up through the floor of the lab. The force of it sent three of them that had been gathered by the back wall of the lab back through the window and down to the level bellow. 

Hastily Hermione cast a spell as she fell to soften there landing zone. It hit the ground bellow them only just before they did with Hermione only just having time to tuck her wand in to protect it from breaking.

Having lost her breath it took a second to find it again. In that time she listened to John reporting what the situation over the ship was and Harriet giving orders based on the news. The bulk of their people were headed to help Stark get the downed engine running again. Ron sent Captain Rogers off to join them while he took Thor as his backup to investigate the Phase Two weapons in case the intruders were after those as well as Loki. John was to remain on the bridge to serve as their connection to Shield command and keep Fury from doing anything foolish.

Shaking her head to dislodge what was left of her disorientation Hermione looked to her left where Agent Romanoff lay pinned by a pipe which had been dislodged by the explosion. To her right lay Doctor Banner who looked uninjured but judging by his breathing was in distress. Hermione held her breath as she took him in. Reminding herself that if worse came to worse she could apparate out she braced herself to move forward with the plan she and Harriet had created for just this situation.

Past efforts had proven the Hulk did not respond to calming spells or similar magic. Whether Doctor Banner turned or not would be entirely decided by his control. That didn’t mean Hermione couldn’t make it a little easier on him. Wand still in hand her first act was to cast a barrier around the Doctor, blocking out noise in the hopes cutting down on stimuli might help tip the scales in his favor. It was just in time too as Ginny worried voice called down to them, “Metis, are you alright?”

“I need you down here now,” Hermione called back with firm authority.

With careful movements Hermione moved over to Romanoff while keeping an eye on Banner. For a number of reasons she would have felt much more secure about the situation had Romanoff not been there.

“How’s the leg,” she asked.

Still dazed some herself Romanoff reported back, “Doesn’t feel broken.”

Nodding Hermione moved to inspect the pipe.

“We’re okay,” Romanoff said, causing Hermione to look up thinking she was being spoken to but as Romanoff’s hand at her earpiece Hermione realized it was a response to something she couldn’t hear. 

Looking over at Banner Romanoff took him in with fear. Keeping her voice high and nonthreatening she asked. “We’re okay, right?”

But as he couldn’t hear her Banner ignored the question.

Given past experience Hermione would personally say they were very much not okay. Romanoff not only worked as a government agent but she had also drawn a gun on Doctor Banner when bringing him in. She was already set in the Doctor and Hulk’s shared intelligence as a threat. Then added on to that just before the explosion she had entered in the lab along with Fury to confront Stark about his hacking Shield. The argument regarding Phase Two and Shield’s secrets had led to Banner bringing up the cell which had been especially made for the Hulk. Given that, if Banner couldn’t regain control Romanoff’s presence was sure to set the Hulk off to violence. This made getting Romanoff out of there Hermione’s next priority.

“Metis,” Ginny called out from closer by this time.

“Over here,” Hermione directed.

She could hear Ginny running across the metal floor as well as Banner’s breathing becoming more distressed.

“Bruce,” Natasha tried to say.

“Don’t,” Hermione warned gaining a disbelieving look from the spy.

“Metis,” Ginny called having rounded the corner with two from Shield just behind her.

“You two go,” Hermione ordered. “Joan here.”

But Ginny had caught sight of Banner and it had slowed her pace considerably.

With a huff she leaf Ginny to her slow goings Hermione ordered, “Here. Now.”

Eyes still on Banner Ginny nodded and quickened her step some.

Having confirmed that removing the pipe would not further injure Romanoff Hermione blocking the view with her body used her wand to lighten the pipe before stowing it away, back up her sleeve where it couldn’t be seen. The last thing she wanted was the Hulk seeing it and identifying her as a threat.

“Move,” she ordered as she lifted the pipe off Romanoff’s leg. Eager to put distance between herself and Banner Romanoff didn’t wince about it. She worked quickly to get her feet under her while Ginny moved in to lend her support.

Letting out a pained moan Banner turned to face them. His neck having changed colors completely there was a framing of green around his face. Hermione raised her hands in submission but Ginny, Ginny who knew the plan and should have known better didn’t do the same. Instead she did the worse thing she could have done in the situation. With her free hand that wasn’t supporting Romanoff Ginny drew her wand leveling it on Banner.

Spotting the movement in her peripheral Hermione turned to look at her in horror.

“No,” she shouted but it was too late. Her voice was drowned out by the roar which Banner let loose. A roar his human vocal cords shouldn’t have been capable of producing.

“Go, go, go,” Hermione ordered as the transition he’d been fighting took hold sending Banner staggering as he was transformed from man to Hulk.

“We have a Code Green. I repeated we have a Code Green. The Hulk is on the Helicarrier.” Hermione reported over general coms even as she ran behind the other two up the stairs. Glaring at Ginny’s back she added, “Reminder to all, we do not engage. I repeat, do not draw on the Hulk. Avoid confrontation at all costs.” 

As soon as she saw a place to hide them Hermione directed Romanoff and Ginny into place.

“Stay here,” she ordered before continuing to run off, the sound of her footsteps sounding out as a clear sign of her location.

Into her coms she sent orders back to Ginny, “Hide yourself and Romanoff. Try not to let her see. Once I’ve got the hulk away, stay with her, get her to medical, and stay with her.”

Ginny did not respond but Hermione didn’t have time to push.

Slowing her speed Hermione forced herself into measured steps while trying to slow her breathing. Taking deep breathes she thought of all the dangerous things she had faced in her life. She comforted herself that the Hulk was nothing compared to Fluffy. Fluffy had three giant heads and none of them could be talked sense to. It had been proven that the Hulk had some understanding, limited though it was. Reports found he was more comparable to a troll and she’d faced one of those as a first year and survived. Using her occumancy abilities she wrapped her doubts up in confidence.

Calm and free of fear Hermione called out, “Hulk… This is Metis.”

The sound of his thundering through the carrier stumbled into silence.

Hermione pulled in another breath then continued. “I don’t know if you remember but as we weren’t introduced personally I feel I should do so.”

The sound of metal moaning under a great weight carried over the air. He was on the move again but going cautiously this time. Hermione forced herself to look around slowly, lazily like she would if she were looking for a friend in the crowd rather than watching for a threat. 

“My name is Metis. I’m the Head Researcher for Buckler… As part of my job I’ve seen all the files and the footage regarding you, and I’m not scared,” she said with conviction. “I don’t believe you want to hurt anyone. I think you never wanted to be here in the first place and now you just want to get away to be safe. Am I right? Would you like to leave?”

There was a grunt from near by. Carefully Hermione turn. She spotted the Hulk through the piping. His face in that moments reminded her strikingly of Teddy when he was a young toddler. Back then when he was angry or frustrated he’d huff and puff. His hair would turn red along with his little cheeks and then the red would spread from his cheeks until all his skin was bright scarlet red. His bottom lip would purse and his brow furrow as he glared out at the world. The expression wasn’t exactly the same between her memory of Teddy and the Hulk but Hermione got the same feeling she used to get from the boy and the Hulk’s aura showed that it wasn’t in Hermione’s head.

Having thought about his aura Hermione realized that her goggles might be off to the green giant. Body language was a large part of communication and not being able to see her eyes could further his distrust of her. Though it took robbed her of a key advantage Hermione reached up to lift her googles from her eyes, leaving them to rest on top of her head.

“Hello,” she greeted with a smile.

The Hulk snorted in her direction before looking away, down and to the left. Almost like he was shy though Hermione wouldn’t say for certain without her goggles. Still the gesture made it easier for Hermione to muster a smile for him.

While she often denied the comparison Hermione Granger and Rubeus Hagrid were very similar when it came to seeing what others judged as too different to be accepted as merely misunderstood. Hermione would argue that unlike Hagrid she very much recognized when a thing was dangerous. She merely didn’t think that meant they should be treated badly because others were scared of the threat they posed.

From studying the Hulk’s files Hermione had become convinced that while unarguably dangerous he was not the monster others believed him to be. This belief had Harriet’s backing. They were of the opinion that the bulk of the damage the Hulk had done and the lives he had taken came down to how poorly he was handled by others. Looking at him then, Hermione felt more confident in her hypothesis than ever.

“If you’d like, I could lead you to an exit,” Hermione enticed. “But it’s a very long way down. I think you might be able to survive it, but I would worry about you breaking your legs.”

The Hulk’s lip twitched in a way that made Hermione want to roll her eyes as she recognized it from many of the teens she’d known over the years who were two full of hormones to admit that they might not be invincible.

“We have jets that could fly you down. I know you might not want to travel inside, but you could ride the outside if you could promise to be still. Either way the choice would be yours.”

Leading by example Hermione continued to breath calm and steady. She allowed no sign of tension or aggression to show as she looked at the Hulk waiting for some sign as to an answer. She had not at all been expecting the answer to come in the form it did.

“Go,” he said, speaking. The Hulk was speaking.

Hermione was so surprised that for a moment she could only stand there blinking.

Unhappily Hulk glared back at her puffing up his cheeks.

Shrugging off her surprise and the flood of considerations this revelation brought on Hermione cleared her throat. “Sorry but do you mean that I should go-”

Hulk sneered and snorted.

“Or that you would like to go?”

Hulk pursed his lips and huffed.

Hermione gave a little huff as well. Her brows coming together with a bit of frustration at the less than clear communication.

“I’m going to head for the exit,” she explained. “If you would like to go you can follow me. If you want to stay, I’ll do my best to keep the others away.”

She gave Hulk one last smile before turning her back on him. Walking at a measured pace she went on down the corridor giving him plenty of time to decide what he wanted to do before she would be out of sight. She made it a short way before she heard him start moving. After a handful more steps it became clear he was following. Continuing to lead him along Hermione reached out to John over the coms.

“Cal this is Metis.”

Cutting right down to business he asked, “How’s the Code Green?”

“I’m leading Hulk to the lower hanger bay so he can leave. I need all Shield personal cleared and any combatants taken care of before we get there.”

“On it,” Cal promised. “What direction are you coming from?”

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she looked around herself, comparing what she saw to her memory of the schematics for the helicarrier. Hulk thankfully didn’t seem to mind her talking as he only briefly paused before continuing to follow her.

“The hanger is yours. Shield personnel are out but we have you on surveillance encase anything goes wrong,” John assured her.

Entering the hanger it looked deserted and when she briefly lowered her goggles it showed the same but as John had only said that Shield’s people had been cleared she knew some of their’s were still around. Luckily it seemed they’d all been smart enough to move into the mirror dimension where there was no fear of surveillance or Hulk spotting them.

Hermione made it some distance out into the hanger before realizing that Hulk was no longer following after her. Turning around she spotted him easily where he lingered in the doorway eyeing the open space with suspicion. Careful not to encroach too far into his space Hermione took only a few steps back his way before stopping to hold her hand out to him.

“It’s alright,” she promised him. “We’re just going over there.”

Hulk continued to eye her and the room wearily but at least it got him moving. Slowly he came out from the doorway and into the hanger proper.

Lowering her hand. Hermione waited for him. It was hard, even with her skills it was hard to keep herself calm as he moved closer and closer to her side, but she managed it. 

When he came to a stop at her side Hulk looked down on her, challenging Hermione to prove he was wrong to trust her.

Looking up at him Hermione realized he wasn’t so much bigger than Hagrid. Greener yes. Taller no. It was one thing to know the stats but another to see it for herself.

She held out her hand to him again and he stared at it in shock.

“Shall we go,” she asked.

Hulk looked between her hand and her face than down to linger on her hand again before jumping up again. 

Hermione smiled softly at him as she patiently waited for him to decided what he would do.

Eyes set on her face for signs of ill intent Hulk hesitantly reached out a hand towards her. He was almost there when he yanked his hand back as though he’d expected some kind of trap but Hermione only continued to hold her ground. 

Hermione watched Hulks eyes as he looked down to the side as he thought. Looking into his eyes from so close she knew the reports had been wrong. Hulk was not at all comparable to a troll. For all his limitations his eyes were just as intelligent as Banner’s.

Looking back at Hermione’s hand Hulk gathered his conviction and placed his over hers. Curling her fingers around two of his large digits. Hermione gave him a beaming smile. Hulk returned it with a smile of his own. It looked awfully like a display of teeth but it was a smile nonetheless. 

“Come along,” Hermione told him giving a small tug on his hand before turning to continue leading. Without resisting Hulk came a long with her. His steps were slow as to not outpace her while Hermione tried to move quickly without coming off to rushed in case that would stir Hulk’s nerves.

Then blue sky appeared off ahead of them and Hulk came to a stop. 

Stopping with him Hermione looked up to see him smiling down at her.

“We go,” he ask.

“Yes,” Hermione agreed completely unprepared for the reaction her agreement would garner.

Suddenly eager to move with speed Hulk scooped Hermione up into his arms as he ran ahead. She gave a little scream of shock which became an even bigger one as Hulk jumped from the Helicarrier with her cradled to his chest.

“Oh-oh,” Hermione shouted. Not caring about propriety for the moment she buried her face in Hulk’s naked chest as her stomach rolled. She hated flying but free falling was worse especially from this height.

Blindly Hermione reached into the inner pocket of her jacket which was expanded to be bigger on the inside. Feeling the tasseled edge of the carpet stored there she began to pull it out. Once the enchanted textile tasted the air it came to live. Moving of its own accord it didn’t need Hermione’s help to finish working itself free. Startled hulk roared and unwilling to comprise his hold on Hermione kicked out at the lively carpet trying to get it away. The kick did nothing to hurt the carpet though as it moved away, swooping through the air.

“Its alright,” Hermione said reaching up to touch Hulk’s cheek.

Startled again only in a different way he looked down at her.

“It's here to help,” Hermione promised even as the flying carpet gently swooped under them to catch Hulk and begin slowing their descent. 

Hulk looked past her to the carpet with wide eyes.

“See,” she said as the carpet turned what had been a terrifying plummet into a gradual though still disconcerting descent.

Staring in fascination Hulk grunted his understanding while Hermione sagged in relief that it seemed he wouldn’t be fighting to jump and start them plummeting again.

Now that she was no longer fearing for her life Hermione realized the predicament she was in causing a hot flush to take her face. The flushing only got worse as Hulk spread his legs, putting Hermione down in the vee of them as he let his calves fall over the edge of the carpet, riding it like others would have ridden a broom.

“Metis report,” John said sounding worried. Undoubtedly he had been told by those watching in the hanger what had happened.

“We’re good,” she promised quickly not wanting anyone to come flying in, wands a blaze.

She looked up to Hulk who was smiling at the world and kicking his feet happily.

The smile that took Hermione’s face came easily and genuinely. “We’re good.”

***

“Hulk and I are headed for the ground. We’ll wait out the Code Green’s there.”

It wasn’t until hearing Hermione say those words that Ginny was able to breath again. Holding her face in her hands she breathed out shakily before pushing her hands back through her hair.

Oh Merlin, had she screwed up. She’d sent the Hulk into a rage focused right in on them. If he’d managed to catch up- Ginny shivered at the thought. Unwilling to follow it to its conclusion, she turned to take in Romanoff who was still crouched besides her where Hermione had stashed them.

She wanted to ask if Romanoff was okay but fear still had a strangling grip on her voice. Even though she knew the Hulk was no longer on board she was scared to draw attention to herself. Instead she reached out placing a supportive hand on the other woman’s arm.

Coming back to herself Romanoff followed Ginny’s hand back to her face.

Ginny tried to offer her a smile but it didn’t feel like it came off right. Still for her effort Romanoff gave her a nod. Letting the smile fall off her face Ginny settled back into the pipes behind her. Closing her eyes she set her head back.

When Ron and Harriet offered her a place working with them for the ICW Ginny never once doubted that she could handle the job. She graduated Hogwarts with better NEWT results than any of her brothers. Only Harriet beat her for skill in the DA. She’d stayed in shape thanks to life as a professional Quidditch player and in her free time made sure her skills as a duelist didn’t atrophy. She regularly crossed wands with friends and family for fun and practice and won a majority of the time. There had never been any doubt for Ginny that she could do the job and nothing in her training had dissuaded her of it. When Ron accused her of arrogance and over confidence she’d just roll her eyes while writing his assessment off as being bias due to his being her brother. Now the doubt was there, and Ginny didn’t know if she’d ever be able to shake it.

Could she really do this job when at the moment all she wanted to do was stay hidden in their dark little hidey hole where the only sound was the two of them breathing and the muffled chatter off Romanoff’s com. At least, muffled to Ginny’s ears. Romanoff seemed to hear it just fine.

“This is Agent Romanoff. I copy,” she said in response to something that had come through. 

Looking over Ginny saw Romanoff having gotten her shaking under control and looking collected in a way Ginny knew she didn’t.

Getting to her feet with purpose Romanoff made to go.

“Hey,” Ginny said following to her feet. “Where do you think you’re going. We have to get you to medical.”

“Agent Barton’s on the move.”

“The same Agent Barton who is under Loki’s control?”

Romanoff nodded.

Stopping Ginny processed that before scrambling to catch up then having to jog to then keep pace. “If you’re going I’m going with you.”

Looking ready to argue Romanoff stopped.

Quickly Ginny pitched, “My gun as a stun feature. If you can get his attention I can put him down without you're having to hurt him.”

That was exactly what Natasha needed to hear to be won over.

Proving her reputation was deserved Romanoff led them through the ship on a path which set them up perfectly to intercept Barton. They arrived just in time to watch him walk past.

On silent feet Romanoff walked out behind him but Barton somehow wasn’t taken by surprised. He drew his bow as he turned ready to fire on Natasha but he didn’t get the chance as she moved his arm the bit needed to send the shot past her. While the two went at it in a display of expertise few could match Ginny worked to hide herself from sight. Then maintaining it she crept in closer so Barton wouldn’t be able to avoid her shot. When his back was to her Ginny dropped the cover in order to hit him with a stunner. 

And just like that he was down. Ginny felt a little bit bad for how easy it was. She’d been debriefed on Barton. She knew his reputation and record. She felt like she had cheated by using magic which he had no defense against.

Looking up over Barton’s body Romanoff raised an eyebrow at Ginny before looking at her gun. No doubt she was interested in how the stunning ‘technology’ worked. But this was a cat let out of the bag before Ginny used it. With the combatants likely under mind control all their people had been ordered to use stunners rather conjuring bullets.

“Thanks,” Romanoff said falling back to lean against the railing behind her.

Sitting down Ginny did the same. “I’d say anytime, but right now I’m honestly thinking of retiring.”

“First time in combat,” Romanoff asked.

And knowing she couldn’t give an honest answer Ginny shrugged, “First time on this scale.”

Romanoff nodded, her gaze leaving Ginny to look down at Barton. She hid her worry well, but Ginny could see it in her aura.

“He’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that,” Romanoff argued.

“Yeah, I do actually,” Ginny said, her voice going small without her permission. 

For a master spy Ginny had given away more then enough to guess, “…Buckler’s come across mind control before?”

Ginny looked down to study her hands. She could feel Romanoff looking at her but she didn’t want to meet the other woman’s eye. However it didn’t take long dealing with the silence before feeling foolish Ginny found her resolve to look up.

“Yeah, we have,” Ginny admitted. Grimacing she continued. “It’s more common than you’d like to think.”

Ginny looked back to Romanoff who was looking back at her with a knowing kind of sympathy. Ginny couldn’t help but to think about all she’d read in the woman’s file about how she became the Back Widow. What had been done to her was far worse than what Clint or Ginny went through. They had been controlled sure but Romanoff had been reformed. A child who’s mind was twisted so she could be dehumanized then weaponized. Ginny felt guilty for knowing Romanoff’s trauma while her own was secret.

She knew she probably shouldn’t, but that didn’t stop her from sharing.

“There was this guy. I trusted him. Thought he was a friend. He used my trust to get into my head. I started loosing time. I didn’t realize it at first and by the time I did…” 

Romanoff got up, moved to sit besides Ginny. “He was controlling you.” It wasn’t a question.

Ginny nodded. Blowing out a breath she continued. “Yeah. He was. He used me to get things done. To hurt people. Smith stopped him though and after, she got me help.”

None of it was a lie even if the wording hid the truth of just how much time had separated these events. Harriet had paid for Ginny to see a healer in the summer before her last year at Hogwarts. Thanks to their sessions Ginny could remember everything that had happened during her possession. 

Looking down her attention focused on her hands again. Sometimes when Ginny was dreaming she would see them covered in blood from the roosters Voldemort had made her kill and when she’d wake up there would be a few seconds where she’d swear there was still blood on her hands. Of all the things that had happened there was something about those roosters that haunted her more than the rest. The healer had proposed it was because had Voldemort wanted he could have ordered her to kill a fellow student, a friend, even one of her siblings and Ginny would have been helpless but to do it. Then, it would have been their blood on her hands.

Romanoff reached out taking one of Ginny’s hands to stop her fidgeting and fixation.

Ginny froze in shock.

“Buckler helped you,” Romanoff asked.

Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat, finding her mouth had gone dry during her recollections without her noticing. “Yeah. And others. There have been several cases with different methods and they are studying the scepter now. I’m not saying it will be like it never happened but they know how to help him recover and can give him training to resist future tampering.”

“They can teach you to resist,” Romanoff pressed, greedy for that kind of protection.

“Yeah,” Ginny admitted, hoping she wasn’t making a grave mistake that would get Romanoff obliviated later.

Letting Ginny’s hand go Romanoff slowly got back up using the railing for support. “How long will he be under.”

Ginny looked over at Barton. Her hand flexed on her wand. “It should be a few hours more but since we don’t know if Loki’s magic will interfere there is no guarantee.

“Best to get his bow away from him then,” Natasha said moving to his side to disarm Agent Barton, removing both his more obvious weapons and several more that were secreted away.

Ginny nodded. “I should check in. Let them know we have him and will need a healer.”

Raising a hand to her ear for appearance sake Ginny spoke. “This is Joan. I’m with Agent Romanoff. We have Agent Barton in hand. Requesting instruction.”

There was nothing in reply. With Hermione off ship she should have been connecting to John and Harriet as the two senior most authorities in the field but she got nothing.

“Hello. Director Smith. Cal.” Still nothing. Panicking she reached out for Ron. “Lance, this is Joan. Do you copy?”

There was silence over the line just long enough for Ginny’s panic to double but then Ron was there.

“I copy Joan,” he said but the words weren’t a comfort. Even if it wasn’t speaking in his actual voice Ginny could tell that something was wrong. Very wrong.

“What’s happened,” she asked horrified at what the answer might be.


	11. Its Almost Shakespearean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Director Smith’s conversation continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events between Harriet and Loki on the helicarrier were the first thing I imagined for this AU. It is what made me fall in love with this story and begin writing it to share with others. I’m hoping I did it justice after its lived in my head for so long.
> 
> !WARNING! Spoilers in the WARNING but still WARNING!  
> There is minor character death in this chapter. There is intentional malicious acts of violence in this chapter. There is paralysis in this chapter. There is also a character that curses (and not the magical kind) but I think compared to the other things he does that is the least upsetting thing about him. Still I’m giving the warning.
> 
> also !WARNING!  
> I have no military or spy training. I could never be a Shield Agent but I did my best to make this seem believable.

“Why do you assume so? Is it because you are certain such a thing would be impossible or is it something else,” the Director asked.

And Loki, who was so used to having the answers, did not know the answer. He hated not knowing.

Loki’s perception of his surroundings had become disjointed during the fall. He contributed the problems with memory he continued to suffer after his rescue as a continuing of these symptoms. Had this been the case or his ‘benefactor’ been meddling with his memories? Thanos’ minions claimed to have used the Scepter’s power to heal Loki’s mind. The process gifted him with insight into the Tesseract and enlightenment beyond his imaginings. He was made whole again and saw a path ahead to satisfaction… or so he believed. But could it he still broken only made unable to recognize it?

Why else had Loki never distrusted the meddling Thanos and his ilk had done to his mind? He being a trickster was suspicious of others by nature. Why had it taken this woman’s question to make him wonder?

Looking inward Loki examined his mind for answers. A sharp pain greeted his efforts causing him to clench his teeth but he bared with it continuing his search until the Director’s urgent announcement interrupted him. “Explosion imminent. We are to be boarded!”

In that moment of distraction the foreign magic laced through in his mind acted to make Loki forget his suspicions and desire to speculate.

Realizing what was about to happen a vindictive smile pulled at Loki’s lips.

Glaring at him in returned, the mysterious Director Smith drew her wand. With a minor flick she erected her protections in time to help her hold her footing before the ship shook with the predicted explosion.

Loki continued to smile as he taunted, “It would seem Agent Barton is punctual.”

Reaching up Smith touched the communications device in her ear activating it to give out commands. Loki listened with half an ear while the rest of his attention was on studying the magic of his restraints. He had been working on finding a way out but in all the time he had been in them he found none. Their were no physical weakness to the construction for Loki to take advantage of and with Loki’s magic restrained to the point that he could not manifest it outside of his body he could not bring it to bare against the very thing which held it back.

When looking them over with his inner eye Loki discovered there were several kinds of magic at work there. Magics which could only be drawn upon using sorcery something, Migard’s witches and wizards usually abhorred. Loki wondered if their attitudes had changed in the three decades he’d been away or if a special exemption had been made on his behalf.

Whatever the case he hadn’t expected this kind of complication. Fury and his precious Shield were easy prey to the likes of Loki but it seemed the wizards could prove to be true adversaries in the war to come. If Loki was to be a match for them he would need to ensure he regained access to his magic and it seemed with no way to pick the lock he’d have to get the key which he had witnessed being handed over into the Director’s care. The same Director who had finished giving out her orders and was staring Loki down.

“Is all going to plan then,” she asked. 

Loki felt his eyes burning with satisfaction even as he played the innocent. “How am I to know? Trapped in your custody as I have been for some hours.”

The Director’s face remained impassive but her eyes were calculating. “And what about my people? Did your plan account for a magical presence being on board?”

Loki frowned. “A minor oversight,” he claimed.

“Why is it I don’t believe you,” Smith asked, her shrewd eyes still locked on his. 

“I have no idea,” Loki denied with pity. “Perhaps you are a naturally suspicious person?”

“Or perhaps it's the flicker in your aura.”

Loki’s frown became genuine. 

Walking forward the Director stood right at the glass of his cell. “How did you even know you would be brought here?”

“Have you considered the obvious answer,” Loki asked as he would a child in lessons.

Her eyes tightened on him. “Magic,” she drawled unamused.

Loki laughed, delighted with her annoyance. He was prepared to continue distracting her with prattle but as his laughter finished her considering expression gave him pause.

“Have you considered my question?”

“And what question was that,” Loki asked as he did believe she was referencing how he knew where he would be taken.

Appearing genuinely concerned the Director asked, “Can’t you remember?” 

Eyeing her with suspicion he opened his inner eye to check her aura as she was apparently doing with him. He could not keep it open long without straining himself but he did manage for just long enough to get a read on her.

While the witch before him was a skilled illusionist, able to hide her true appearance from him, there was no way Loki had ever found to project a falsehood through one’s aura. There were methods for concealing what one truly felt but when trying to portray a false emotion it never showed correctly. An armature aura reader could perhaps be fooled but Loki was no amateur.

Intrigued by her genuine upset Loki countered, “What is it you believe I’ve forgotten?”

Something about the question caused her control to slip. The muscles on her face jumped for a moment before the Director brought things under control again to present her cool facade. Loki tried activating his inner eye to see what her reaction might be but by the time it was active the emotion had been covered up with the Director’s aura showing only concern and conviction.

She took a deep breath. “Protections which appear to have been with you most all your life were removed some time within the last year, though it does not appear to have been done too recently.”

This sounded familiar to Loki’s ear though he could not recall where he had heard it before. He looked away from the Director.

She continued regardless. “When they were removed nothing was done to replace them or compensate for this weakening in the array. While neither the scans nor I can-”

Turning to look at her Loki interrupted, “Scans?”

“Earlier I entered your cell in order to carry out scans of the protections over your person.”

Squinting his gaze slid away. He remembered that… vaguely. When he tried looking back at the memory he found his focus on Thor. He sneered thinking of his brother who had looked pathetic on his arrival, peer in on Loki in his cell with such heartbreak. With hate bubbling in his gut Loki rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics.

Unaware of his actions Loki began to pace a scant few feet back and forth.

Distracted though he was Loki was still aware of what the Director was saying as she went back to her speech. “Neither the scans nor I can pinpoint exactly when it happened but judging by what should have been there it seems the measures which would allow Odin-” Loki sneered reflexively at the name. A new swell of hate rushed over him far greater than what he felt for Thor. “-to find you in even the most hidden of places were removed as well as all the spells, hexes, and curses which were put in place as the first line of defense for your mind.”

Something even purer than rage took over Loki fueling him. Forgetting entirely Fury’s warnings about his cell he swung round slamming his first down on the glass next to the Director’s face.

“Liar,” he declared with all the deadly venom of a basilisk.

“Why,” the Director asked with such sympathy in her eyes. Loki was too worked up to engage his inner eye to check whether it was real or not. “Why do you assume so? Is it because you are certain such a thing would be impossible or is it something else?”

Fist still on the glass Loki turned away from her as he fell into introspection. Something about her words…

Calling his attention back to her the Director declared, “We had this conversation before.”

Had they? Loki searched his memory and yes, they had. Almost word for word. He’d been considering the matter when the explosion distracted him. But even as he reflected on this a new distraction caught his fancy.

He turned his attention and inner eye on the Director. “Not your scanners or yourself you said. My, my, Madam Director. Are you a Seer?”

“I am,” she admitted with no sign of deception.

“A rare gift,” Loki said looking at her with new respect. Those who were born to See were rare in the universe. On Asgard Loki knew only Heimdall to be gifted with the Sight. So gifted in fact that his inner eye was always open without suffering fatigue, though he did suffer for having no talent for looking beyond the present. Loki wondered how Smith compared to the Bifrost’s guardian. It could be she was little more than Carnival fortune teller in which case her gift would make little difference to his plans. But if she was more gifted she on her own could-

“Are you still considering my question,” the Director asked.

Annoyed at having his thoughts interrupted Loki sniped, “What question?”

The Director’s face became saturated with pity.

Loki instantly despised her for thinking he was someone to pity. He, Loki, who should rightfully be King.

Repeating his query he growled, “What question?”

The Director gave no sign that she intended to answer him.

“What question,” he screamed at her in rage, spittle flying from his mouth to spatter on the glass between them. His teeth were bared with primal aggression. His eyes were wide as he stared her down with absolute hatred despite her being a relative stranger.   
But still, the Director gave no sign of answering him.

“Ph-ha,” Loki hissed at wench dismissively. This lesser being was not deserving to effect him so. A Seer and a witch she may be but that meant little as in the end she was only human. A weak, frail, mortal… just as Lilly had been. Just as their daughter had been.

Loki sneered.

Whatever her thoughts or presumptions she would fall as all the rest would when his army came.

But Loki hated to be ignorant, so despite telling himself that it did not matter Loki wanted to know what the question had been.

Turning his back on the Director he paced his cell looking for the answer in his own mind but his thoughts were caught on the failings of humans. Weak mortal beings so readily willing to engage in war. They should be seeking peace and protection that they might live out what limited days were offered to them. Fury’s adventures with the Tesseract was further proof if further proof was needed. The Midgardian races would have been extinguished due to the humans playing with it as they were. Even with magic they were too weak to hold out against those who would be drawn to the Tesseract’s power. If not Loki it would be another. So why not Loki? He was born to be a King. Why should he not rule them. Why-

“Do you remember my question?”

In wordless rage Loki charged for the glass but he never made contact. The restraints over his body became rigid, holding him in pose mid step.

“Do you remember my question,” the Director asked again.

“Let me go,” he demanded. “Let me you quim and I may show you a merciful death once I am free.”

She was unaffected by his threats. “Not until you answer.”

Loki bared his teeth at her but did try to remember. Made frozen as he was what else should he do. But as he tried to look back in his memory he couldn’t help being distracted by the feeling of the restraints and the knowledge of just how helpless he was. He tried to focus on finding the answer the Director wanted but his awareness of his situation was too consuming. He tried to tell himself that once he got the answer it wouldn’t matter but that didn’t work to keep fear and panic from trickling through his veins.

“Please,” Loki pleaded with genuine emotion, too fearful to hate himself for it.

But she appeared unmoved.

“Please,” Loki repeated feeling a tear fall from his eye.

A mirroring tear rolled down the Director’s cheek. “There is a foreign magic gripping your mind.”

Loki wanted to shake his head in denial but he was powerless to do so. Unable to do anything else he closed his eyes.

“It is working to keep you ignorant of its presence. It first used pain to dissuade you. Then it tried rage to keep you distracted. Rage at your brother and father. When I pulled you back it fed your natural curiosity, focusing it safely on my Sight. When I pulled you back again it targeted your rage at me. And now using fear against you.”

“No,” Loki denied his eyes still closed against the world but even as he said the word he couldn’t help but to look inside himself to see if what she said was true. The pain that answered his attempt was agony.

“Stop,” the Director said. Her hand was raised to the glass as though to reach out to him. Her expression was entirely opened by empathy. It made her almost unrecognizable as the woman he had seen so far.

Taking in deep breaths Loki’s eyes fluttered shut. He was feeling worn down and wrung out.

“It’s not worth you're hurting yourself,” the Director said softly.

“Hurt myself for what,” he asked confused as he opened his eyes to see the Director looking on him with pity.

Distracted by her upset he reveled in it. 

Raising an eyebrow at her as Loki smirked, “What’s the matter? Feeling guilty for putting a man at your mercy? You could always let me go.”

“Do you remember my question,” the Director asked sounding discouraged.

Loki rolled his eyes. He tried to think what the woman was talking about but he gave up on it. His head was hurting greatly and he was sure whatever quarry she’d had couldn’t be worth straining himself over.

“There is foreign magic interfering in your mind,” she said with steel coming into her voice.

“What are you blathering about,” Loki asked wishing he could reach up to rub at his head.

With the kind of conviction that demanded attention she declared, “You are not in control of yourself.”

Loki smirked at her, amused with her little theory. “Oh, am I not?”

“No, you are not.”

“I’ve been studying the arts of the minds for longer then most of your greatest civilizations endured,” he explained slowly, frustrated that it needed to be said at all when his head throbbed with every word. “Do you really think I could be ignorant of an attack on my mind.”

“You’re not ignorant,” she said, speaking again with absolute conviction. “You’ve probably figured it out a hundred times over, but every time you get close it distracts you and then your made forget you ever considered the possibility.”

“…Say this is true,” Loki said feeling his stomach roll at the possibility his followed by a worsening of the pain in his head. “What do you propose to do about it? Surely you have greater priorities? Isn’t this craft falling through the sky as we speak?”

“There are others to deal with that,” the Director dismissed, inadvertently confirming to Loki that at least this part of the plan was successful. Possibly picking up on his satisfaction the directors nose twitched before she continued. “You are mine to deal with.”

“And how do you plan on dealing with me,” Loki asked suggestively with his best flirtatious charm.

The Director’s disgust with this suggestion showed on her face even as she rolled her shoulder trying to dislodge her feelings of discomfort which were so strong as to project themselves as sensation to her body.

Loki smiled, pleased with his victory at finding a chink in her armor.

Her expression hardened at his smile. Made to present as cold steel again she declared, “I say we look to see what exactly was done to you.” 

A touch of defensiveness shivered over Loki’s skin. “ No matter the strength of the seer my timeline is protected from Sight.”

“You forget. Those protections were removed.” 

Confused at what nonsense she was speaking of Loki looked within himself and found that indeed not only those but all his protections had been stripped away. Every last one of them. 

Disbelieving Loki said, “But that’s impossible. The All Father- How? When,” he demanded.

She didn’t answer.

Sneering Loki declared, “It does not matter. Even with my stripped bare as I am there will be little for you to see as the veiling of Asgard and the others I have walked this life with will guard my secrets.”

“That may be. But it's a place to start.” 

Against his will Loki was moved by his restraints. He was made to stand with both hands place upon the glass.

Setting Thor’s hammer on the ground besides her to free her hands the Director placed them across from his.

Baring his teeth at her Loki challenged, “Go ahead. Look. Try to see what is coming for your precious Earth. Look and know that your feeble efforts to defend yourself will mean nothing in the end.”

But even as he said the words Loki was calling himself a fool. If the girl could discover the truth of Thanos and the invasion there was a chance that this information could lay ruin to their plans. It would have been better not to draw her attention to such things. Better to let her indulge in her theory as it would keep her away from precious truths until Loki’s puppets got through Shield’s defenses to free him. It wasn’t as though there was anything to find… there wouldn’t be.

The pain in Loki’s head worsened.

“All in due time,” the Director promised. Then her eyes grew distant, focusing on things beyond what was physically present and there was nothing Loki could do to stop her.

Trying to answer his will his magic pushed at the restraints to no avail. As the pain in his head grew more intense Loki tried to use physical means to break the bonds and still nothing. His skin transformed to blue and his eyes to red as he brought his Jotunn nature to the fore in a desperate attempt which made no difference. The freezing cold of his touch did nothing to weaken the metal that held him. Giving up Loki’s appearance returned to normal. 

He wish that if he could not stop her he could at least know she was Seeing. What of his secrets were now exposed? What vulnerabilities of his was she uncovering?

Eagerly his magic redirected to answer this new desire. Traveling in a new direction it tapped into an old muted connection, restoring it to life. Before Loki could examine what was happening his consciousness was being pulled into a memory. Only not a memory. No, this was a vision of his past. A vision forged by Director’s gift but how was it there for him to see?

The vision became unclear as they came upon Loki’s rescue but before it could be lost completely his mind provided the true memory of the event showing what her Sight could not. Loki tried to stop from seeing as he did not know if the Director had access to his mind as he seemed to have to hers. He tried to lock down the connection his magic had found but before he could her magic was there holding the connection open allowing her to look through his memories as she would like. She pushed everything else aside to find his most recent memories and from their worked backward.

Loki watched as she tried again and again to make him see that he was compromised with his perspective, hers, and the objective view of her Sight working to complete the image. He could see the lacing of magic playing with his mind. It had familiar notes. A mixing of the Scepter’s influence and that of Maw, Thanos’ sycophant. Loki could feel that mix of magic in his mind presently trying to make him forget what he was seeing.

The events continued on back through time with his memory, unreliable though it was, filling in what was blocked from her Sight of his existence.

Through him the Director learned of the plan to invade Midgard and how Maw sponsored Loki to Thanos when he volunteered to take charge of the campaign. She knew his motivations for doing so and exactly how little of what was happening came from Loki’s inspiration. She experienced for herself who the Mad Titan was and the threat he posed. She met each of his children as Loki had met them and saw for herself the army which Loki had been promised.

But there were chunks of his life completely unaccounted for. Points where Loki’s mind couldn’t account for what had been happening and the Director’s Sight could not penetrate. And then, there were other instances where Loki expected there to be nothing only for the Director to uncover memories repressed and hidden by the magics polluting his mind. Loki saw for himself glimpses of what the ‘healing’ he had received when first entering Thanos’ care consisted of.

Then they were at the fall and what he could not remember her sight could fill in. Loki wanted it over. He had no wish to see this and listening to him the Seer speed up her vision, sending them back through time with greater speed until they were at the Bifrost, in Asgard where her sight could see not the present, future, or past. But his memories could show them what had happened.

Loki watched the events which led to his fall feeling betrayal, anger, and fury. His seething resulted in the Director holding up a mirror for him. She lent her Sight to show him the truth of his reaction. How the magic were manipulating not only his present reactions but his perspective on the past as well. However knowing what was happening didn’t help him to remove the influence’s filter over his memories as they continued back through his history allowing her access to the secrets of both Loki and Asgard. Loki’s resentment of her grew the longer they went on. He began to focus not on the memories being displayed to him but on futile efforts to get her out of his mind.

His fighting became more desperate as they grew closer to the day Loki learned of Lily’s death. Of his daughter’s death. He could feel the Director’s curiosity at that thought and he sent hate back her way. His past was not for her to know. His losses were not a novelty for her entertainment.

And then they were there, at the cottage where Lily and her husband had been raising their child.

“Please, stop,” he begged only distantly aware of his body with which he had spoken the words.

To Loki’s shock, his pleading was listened to.

The memory paused on Loki, in the street outside the cottage at the moment when his grief turned to a rage and resentment which had been laced through his existence from this point on.

Moving away from this moment the people on the street including Loki disappeared as day turned to night. The village was still, peaceful in the dark until it was disturbed by the arrival of a man. A man who’s face Loki had memorized from the Wizarding papers of the time. The face of a man who Loki hated above all others. Hate which Loki was never able to abate because the man was killed before Loki could seek vengeance himself.

“Don’t make me watch this,” he begged.

Again he was listened to. Time shifted again, moving ahead. The man was gone. Turning towards the cottage Loki could see the damage. The deed had been done. 

A new man arrived. One Loki was surprised to see as he recognized him from a picture of Lilly’s. This was Lilly’s former friend who had joined the service of man who ultimately murdered her.

Loki glared at the image of one Severus Snape as he headed into the house. To his horror Loki felt himself being drawn along to follow.

“No,” he demanded but still he was dragged along. 

“No please,” he begged but this time he was not listened to. 

He tried to resist until an unexpected sound reached Loki’s ears. It was the sound of a child crying out in distress.

As Snape rushed up the stairs calling for Lilly, Loki rushed up with him.

As Snape fell to his knees at the sight of Lilly’s body, Loki could only spare her corpse a glance as there was something far more pressing that needed his attention. In the center of the room was an infant in its crib. His daughter, alive and crying from green eyes like Lilly’s with her dark curls like Loki’s that were dusted with debris. The only sign of injury to her was a cut along her forehead.

“But how,” Loki asked.

The vision shifted again. Rushing back in time to earlier that night. To what the Director had tried to show Loki but he’d begged to be spared viewing.

In her cot his child lay slipping at peace in a nursery which was pristine, not yet marred by the violence to come. Loki reached out to touch her but no matter how real the vision felt that was something it could not give him.

He wanted to stay, to watch his daughter sleep, but he could not stop himself from moving for the window. Outside he could see the ‘Lord’ Voldemort coming.

Moving away from the window and the crib Loki moved himself to the far corner of the room where he braced himself to endure what would come.

Closing his eyes Loki was still forced to know what was happening by the Director’s gift.

A rain of spell fire hit the protections on the house breaking down a way for the Dark Lord to enter.

“Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off,” Lilly’s husband, her chosen commanded.

Loki reluctantly felt some respect for the man come into bloom as he had spared not a second to think of his own life, only that of Lilly and Harriet.

Lily made to obey. She ran, reaching the bottom step just as the door gave way for Voldemort. Despite the noise of it she didn’t stop though. Even as her husband fought for her and Harriet at the cost of his own life Lilly continued up the stairs being followed by a cackling laugh. As she burst into the room Loki could not help but to open his eyes to look at her. 

He forced himself to keep his eyes open to watch what followed. 

He watched the woman who had won his love with no interest in the price beg for their child’s life only to be ignored. 

He watched Voldemort laugh as he raised his wand to nonverbally cast the killing curse. And Lilly, she knew what was coming. She had just enough time to scream, before her life was ended.

With the mother taken care of Voldemort raised his wand on the child. On poor little Harriet who having been awoken by her mother’s pleadings had just witnessed Lily’s murder. And there, while watching her mother’s body fall a kind of magic came from his daughter the likes of which Loki had never experienced before. Invisible to the naked eye but clear to a Seers sight strings of magic flew from Harriet like needles through the air. Unnoticed by the Dark Lord they pierced into the very essence of his existence.

With burning satisfaction in his eyes the Voldemort cast a second killing curse at his target.

With time slowing down around him Loki was helpless intervene as he watched the sickening green curse creep towards his daughter, but because it was slowed he was able to see the answer to the question which had baffled the masses of the Wizarding World. How had Harriet Potter survived the killing curse? The answer was simple. She hadn’t.

As the spell approached an aura of magic formed around Harriet’s cot. A shield which captured the killing curse before it ever reach Harriet then sent it back at the caster.

Voldemort screamed in agony as the spell connected but something stopped it from killing him as it should have. Instead he was forced to endure the curse shredding his body while his magic tried and failed to protect him. The will to kill Voldemort put into the spell battled against his will to survive. Loki watched with time still slowed as these conflict between these forces disintegrated Voldemort’s body and with no vessel to contain them then lashed out at the nursery before dissipating. He watched as the wraith of what remained of the Dark Lord was shot out of the cottage on the current of this magic with the force of his journey causing pieces of his soul to fracture off. 

Most of these soul fragments were no bigger than dust. Small pieces sent scattering through the air where with no magic or body to sustain them they dissolved into nothing. All but one piece which was bigger and held just enough magic to make it mobile as it hunted. Driven by survival instincts and with some control over where it went the piece headed for the cot where there was a vulnerable vessel which it might inhabit. The Shield which had protected Harriet from the curse had been used up by the blast. There was nothing to stop the soul fragment as it flew into her head, claiming his daughter as its sanctuary. The girl’s magic tried to reject the fragment from her body but as her magic battled with what was left of Voldemort’s in the fragment it only served to cut open the mark on her head Loki had seen earlier. A cruse scar that she would likely bare for all her life to come.

Walking forward he watched as his daughter began to cry.

Had her magic gone on fighting young as she was it could have resulted in her death much as the conflict within Voldemort’s resulted in his. Instead, realizing this is a fight not to be one Harriet’s magic work instead to cut Voldemort’s soul fragment off from her soul and mind. It wrapped the shred of foreign soul in layer and layer of magic until it was cocooned, attacked but separate form her. It was not a perfect defense but it was enough to allow his magic and hers stopped battling one another.

Harriet had survived.

His daughter had lived through the attack.

Time continued forward picking up pace.

Loki watched again as Snape arrived to find the bodies wailing in his grief for Lilly who could not hear while ignoring Harriet in her suffering. He stayed until he could contain himself to sent word to Dumbledore what had happened. Then he left to keep guard outside until someone could come for ‘the child.’

Loki watched on as his daughter was collected and flown off into the night. He followed her in her journey and on through her first day as a supposed orphan.

***

Forgotten by Loki ‘the Director’ was watching with him.

She had previously seen parts of this night and the day that followed a dozen times over. A few times from Voldemort’s memory, once from Snape’s, and the rest using divination in an attempt to understand exactly what happened to allow Voldemort’s curse to be deflected. However watching events with Loki was a new experience as Harriet was able to see his reaction, reading the thoughts and emotions that passed through his mind as he took it all in. She was concerned as to why there was a connection between them that she had not known about but she suspected why it was there and for the moment she would take advantage.

Harriet was so absorbed with watching Loki watch her past that she’d forgotten to keep track of the physical world around them.

***

Brad raised his fist signaling to the rest of his team to hold. On their way to detention they hadn’t come across much trouble but they wouldn’t let that make them complacent. They had been warned that illusions could be used to hide something or someone completely from their senses and so they would assume that not being able to see trouble coming meant nothing.

Using himself as bait Brad left his team behind to head out alone into the corridor outside Loki’s cell. The seemingly empty space remained quiet as he crept along. Checking around the first entry way Brad could see only two people inside. Making a decision he came around the corner announcing himself. “Ma’am.”

There was no reaction from her or from Loki in his cell. The two stood face to face, hands pressed to the glass. Loki’s eyes were seemingly at rest and in the reflection of the glass Brad could see the woman’s were as well. While there was no sign of Loki’s scepter Brad wondered if he hadn’t found a way to bring the woman under his spell or if he was simply trapping her in place.

Moving forward he carefully kept one eye on the room and the other on the pair until he came up behind the woman’s, still out of her eye of sight. He was in Loki’s though and when the man gave no reaction or offered new orders Brad knew what he had to do. He had his orders. He knew his purpose.

Without hesitation he moved quickly, drawing the dagger from his vest to thrust it forward aiming to move up under the ribs and into the woman’s heart.

***

Loki was watching Dumbledore examine Harriet yet again in his search for answers when quite abruptly the vision changed.

Gone was the Headmaster’s office and in its place was Loki’s cell. At the glass he and the Director stood as he knew them to be at that moment, but behind the Director was a man in Shield gear preparing to drive his dagger into her. Loki could not recall his name but the eyes made it clear what he was. They glowed in the unmistakable shade of blue belonging to those brought under Loki’s influence by the scepter.

With a vicious smile Loki watched in satisfaction as the scene played out in slow motion only to loose his pleasure as it occurred to him that this was a seer’s vision of what might be. While Loki was grateful to know his daughter had survived when he thought she died it did not change that the Director was an enemy in possession of the key to Loki’s freedom. Knowing that his people might have nullified the threat but would loose the chance was frustrating.

Before he could see the Director’s heart stopped the vision came to an end and with it his connection to the Director’s gift.

As his own vision came into focus he saw the start of the scene he’d just witnessed only from a new perspective.

Loki looked into the Director’s face which was close enough to count her lashes. There was a disappointing lack of panic to be found in her features. Calm and determined she acted without hesitance. Turning she deflected the dagger at the last possible moment. From her vision she already knew that it was capable of cutting through the armor she wore and as such was prepared for the blade to cut through her sleeve to the skin. She winced slightly at the cut but didn’t let it slow her down.

Behind her Loki smiled in pleasure at her mistake. 

The dagger was an heirloom from an extinct dark wizarding family. Made of Goblin-forged steel the blade was not only cursed but soaked in doxy venom which strengthened the effects of the curse. Deflecting the blade may have saved her life but letting it cut her would likely spell her demise and no vision of what was to come would save her from the damage already done. Especially as that dagger wasn’t the only precaution he’d taken on the change that the Wizards might get involved with his capture.

Having overcome his surprise at the Director’s sudden move Loki’s pawn fired his gun on her. A gun which was loaded with bullets Loki had made with the help of Agent Barton using magic as well as his knowledge of Asgardian weaponry. For all the advancements the Wizards might have made he was confident they could in no way prepared for such a creation.

Even as the bullet shot her through the Director did not falter. In an impressive display of wandless magic for a witch of Midgard she stunned her appointment before he could take further action against her.

It was too late though.

It was rare for Loki to show respect to a fallen opponent but for this witch, Director Smith, he holds his tongue on any witty quips.

“Back up,” she manages to say softly, only just managing to get the words out. As her hand is not to her ear Loki does not know if her device will pick up the request to send to her people. He does not know if over the sounds of battle and chaos through out the helicarrier if anyone will be able to hear it.

In the same way that he cannot move due to his restraints the combination of curses and venom working moving through her system are locking the Director up. Soon it wouldn’t only be her limbs which could not move but breathing will be almost impossible and then last her heart will become like stone and a human with a heart that cannot beat cannot go on living unsupported. Even a magical one. 

In the mean time she would be trapped in her body mostly aware and trapped in this room as well. Thanks to myriad of magics Loki placed on the armor of his people her greatest hope of survival, apparition or a portkey would not work in their presence. So long as she is within the radius of that stunned pawn she would not be able to escape through magical travel nor would rescue be able to reach her by those means.

With his sense of superiority bolstered Loki took satisfaction that his planning and preparations out matched hers. She’d made it a challenge but Loki could see his victory in sight.

Around her light flickered as she tried to maintain the illusion over her person. Eagerly Loki watched wanting to see the secret of the Director’s identity. It was meager compensation for all of his secrets which she learned but it was a small recompense.

When she failed to catch her breath the illusion failed entirely revealing the young woman underneath. 

Taking in her features Loki’s stomach plummeted. 

“No,” he said disbelieving of those eyes which were exactly like Lilly’s and their daughters set in a face in which he saw much of himself.

“No,” he said again as she began to fall to the ground.

Despite his desire for what he was seeing to be a lie Loki found himself with the impulse to reach out to catch her. Whether because of his intend or her failing health his restraints went placid allowing him to move but being able to move freely made him no more capable of catching her than before.

As her injured body grew closer to the ground another transformation came over it. Her green eyes turned red as her pale skin became Jotunn blue. Conjured from her body ice reached out from her exposed skin and under her cloth shooting towards the ground to create supports which held her up from falling any farther. When her body was stilled the ice expanded becoming a wedge to support fully her injured form before branching out, freezing and reinforcing the metal of the walkway.

Falling to his knees Loki stared at her in disbelief. He did not want to trust what he was seeing so he told himself it was a trick. He reasoned it was far too convent that he be made to believe his daughter lived only to find himself confronted with an image of what she might have grown to be. It was a farce he assured himself. A farce to service the Director’s manipulation of him. 

Opening his inner eye Loki looked for signs of deception but found none. All illusions were gone… and most damning of all, the ice she was creating glowed to his Sight in the same way the ice of the Jotunn did.

Blinking back tears Loki’s eyes tracked the frost that was creeping up the glass of his cell. Reaching out he placed his fingers on it. He watched numbly as his own Jotunn heritage came to the fore in order to protect him from the cursed cold of her ice magic.

With the numbness breaking hysterical laughter crept out of him.

“Of course,” he said. Of course given the theme of the tragedies in his life the Fates, cruel manipulators that they were would arrange this for him. It had to be them. Loki was sure of it. Coincidence could surely not be so poetic and who else would be capable of arranging such dramatic irony.

Loki continued to laugh until the tightening in his chest made it impossible to. Just drawing in breath was difficult. Looking at the woman in front of him he watched as her chest struggled to move as well. He wondered if what he was feeling was his bodies own doing or sympathetic response.

With his inner eye still open he watched as her magic still strong despite her injuries fought to undo the damage done to her. To his surprise it was succeeding though only in small measure. If she could hold on she might just live long enough for help to come. He supposed this was further proof that she was more than human for a human’s magic would not have been capable of this.

At the doorway three men in Shield Uniforms appeared.

“Help her,” Loki ordered, uncaring that these men were not under his control and would feel no compulsion to listen.

Instead two moved around the perimeter of the room while the third moved up onto the walk way.

“The hell,” he said taking in the woman’s form with disgust.

Loki sneered at him in return for his judgment.

“This freak one of yours,” he asked, presumably of Loki though he barely spared him a glance.

When Loki didn’t bother to respond the man knelt to check the pawn’s pulse. After confirming he was alive he moved to look at the woman poking her with his gun before turning to look at Loki in his cell. His eyes tracked down to Loki’s hand. 

“Guess she’s got to be. If that’s even a she,” he said chuckling at his own joke.

Confused Loki looked at his own hand to find it was still Jotunn blue. Flexing he formed it into a fist before covering it with his other hand. Despite all he had been through he still felt shame at the truth of what he was.

“She is not with me,” Loki said tersely.

The man snorted. “Right.”

“Sir,” one of his fellows said.

“Yeah Murphy,” the man asked having turned back to the woman. Using his gun to avoid touching her he tried to lift her arm up off of the ice. As the prolonged contact caused the end of his muzzle to freeze he jerked it back in surprise to inspect. “The hell.”

“Sir,” Murphy tried again.

“You seeing this shit?”

“Sir!”

“What,” the man said finally turning to Murphy who tilted his chin towards the woman.

“Her clothes.”

Looking them over the man asked, “What about them?”

“They’re Smith’s,” Murphy pointed out.

Loki clenched his fist while the man scrunched his brow looking over her outfit more critically before his face opened up. A noise between a snort and a chuckle punched out of him. “Well, I’m be damned if they aren’t.”

Leaning forward he positioned himself to meet her eyes which had been locked open. “If it isn’t the head bitch herself. We knew you were a freak but we never guessed this freaky.”

“Sir, we don’t have much time,” Murphy reminded him. “What do we do?”

The commander didn’t need to give it much thought. “Murphy, check that one for anything useful. Khare, open the skylight. We’ll dump them both along with the ‘god.’”

Loki felt terror grip him.

“No,” he growled. Only to be ignored. As the commander continued to examine the woman Murphy searched the downed pawn taking his weapons, and the last of the trio made for the control panel.

“Why are you doing this,” Loki tried instead, hoping that if he got them talking it would buy time for his people or hers to arrive. “She’s on your side.”

The commander snorted. “Not mine she isn’t.”

Below them the machinery pulled back the shielding which made up the floor of the room. 

Loki didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what he wanted to do. Hadn’t he wanted this woman to die. Wasn’t it better for the fight to come that she was off the field. He should be more concerned with his own safety as they intended to drop him when he had no access to his magic with which to safe himself.

His head began to hurt.

Yes, he should leave them to focus on the woman while he turned his focus on himself Loki decided as the influence on his mind pushed him towards selfishness.

“Alright Murphy help me push this guy over,” the commander instructed. “Everything she touches seems to freeze so we’ll use him to break her off and push them both over in one go.”

His expression was sour but Murphy offered no protests. Instead he followed instructions and moved to help as ordered. Together they rolled the pawn over next to the woman’s body where her cold immediately started effecting him. Loki could see in her aura that even in her situation causing pain to another distressed her. Unbidden he recalled she gave out reminders to her people that combatants were to be stunned as they didn’t wish to kill those who were only acting under the influence of mind control. Scowling Loki forced that thought and the feelings it provoked aside while he focused on investigating his cell, his cage, and restraints for something he missed before that could help him not. Because there had to be something.

“Khare get over here,” the commander ordered when he and Murphy together could not get the woman to move.

Relief moved thorough Loki as he realized what was getting in their way. The ice was that of a Jotunn! Even Asgardian strength required the assistance of enchanted weaponry to break all but the thinnest of sheets. The Goblin-forged dagger might be able to chip away at some of the ice without breaking but the work it would take to get her loose would take time. Time with which help could come.

“Damn,” the commander said with a grunt. He frowned at her body like a puzzle to be solved. “Guard the doors while I figure this out.”

His subordinates moved to do his bidding while he tilted head in consideration.

His eyes settled on the gun shot wound through her stomach and the evidence of the blood which had spilled before her ice could form in the wound to aid of keeping her alive.

Adapting the appearance of being less effect than he was Loki went back to attempting to buy time. “What did you mean she is not on your side. You're facing an invasion. Surely there are only two sides. Those of us who would take what is yours and those against us.”

But the commander didn’t engage with him. Instead looking over at to the pawn’s gun he picked it up. After checking it over he aimed it at the woman.

‘Do something’ Loki thought while staring at the scene. But she couldn’t. All her magic was working to keep her alive. If she redirected any of it for even a moment there would be no recovering the ground lost in the battle for her life. It would be the death of her.

Loki’s agony over this was cut short as he wondered how he knew with such certainty that this was the truth. Looking into himself he found the connection which had allowed the woman access to his memories and he access to her visions was still tethering their minds.

‘Who are you,’ he projected. Even though all the evidence was telling him this was his daughter reconciling if was difficult. He needed it proven to him. He needed it proven or he would not be able to let himself let go of the self preservation that told him this could be a trick.

Projected back at him was not a name or a memory but the impression of her as a person. Complicated and layered and no more defined by a single name than a single form. This impression allowed Loki to know her more fully as a person but did not tell him what he wanted to know.

“Lets give it a try,” the commander decided.

‘Are you Harriet? Are you my daughter?’

In return he received a vision. In the vision lay the woman as she was then. Injured she was propped on a wedge of ice but that ice was not on the helicarrier. Instead it was in a field of snow under a golden sky which poured more snow down on them blocking everything else from view. The landscape was foreign to Loki but he quickly ignored it as the snow cleared revealing a crowd statues before them. In the front row stood Lilly’s husband, Lilly herself, and Loki. Behind the representation of himself Loki could see his ancestors both those of his true blood and those of Odin’s house.

‘If its true, if you are her you can take from my magic. The bond will let you,’ Loki projected still not entirely willing to believe that this woman was Harriet, the swell in Lilly’s stomach, the little girl from the visions.

The commander fired and Loki felt the drain as a large portion of his magic was channeled through the bond between them. The test was passed. Not only could she draw his magic from him but his magic submitted to her will. With his to boost her own a new layer of ice developed over her form to protect her from the clipped being fired on her.

Loki was completely robbed of breath as new tears formed in his eyes.

“The hell,” the commander asked in irritation. Turning he took out his frustration on the pawn. Kicking the man he sent him off the walk way to free fall through the open sky bellow.

By the time he turned back to Harriet was entombed in a solid block of ice. She was going into hibernation, a Jotunn’s last defense against death. The ice worked to protect them while they slept in the cold, healing against damage done or waiting out a time of famine or hardship. Through both the connection and his inner eye Loki could already see it working to save his daughter’s life.

In hibernation there was no need to breath and the heart would barely beat. With the rest of her body protected and preserved her magic was able to focus solely on her heart, protecting it against the effects of the venom and curses.

Loki chocked on a sob of relief as Harriet became stable. Closing his eyes he shut his inner eye as well allowing it to rest as he recovered from the strain of having it open for too long.

With his vision darkened he focused on Harriet’s mind as her consciousness shut off completely to embrace the oblivion of a healing sleep. Then the connection between them went dormant again to rest as she rested.

“What the actual fuck,” the commander shouted.

Loki opened his eyes and at the sight before him was filled with panic. 

Harriet was gone and the bulk of her ice enclosure was gone with her.

“Is this some kind of trick,” the commander asked turning the gun towards Loki in his cell even as Loki opened his inner eye to check for the same. 

It was no trick. She was gone. Gone. But how? Where was she?

Loki’s mind quickly set to work on the problem and he found the answer. 

He looked at where his man had been. His pawn which anchored her from leaving. When he’d been kicked… 

Loki’s gaze traveled down towards the expanse of sky bellow. 

In falling he moved out of range freeing her from those restrictions. And when she lost consciousness it must have activated an emergency transport of some kind? A portkey most likely. One of her own making if it was able to break her ice to bring with along rather than stealing her from inside.

A storm of emotion welled up in Loki and utilizing those emotions his mind was further manipulated.

Humans.

Humans!

Miserable loathsome beings.

They’d cost him his daughter again.

This world. These people. Magical and muggle alike they deserved what was coming. He would see them bow and when they did he would rule over them, with his daughter at his side. He’d given in to Lily because he believed his daughter would be born a mortal but she had not been. She may have gotten her mother’s eyes but she was his daughter. Born to be a Princess as he was born to be a King. He would take the Earth and rule it, then when the time came she would be his successor. It was poetic. It perfect. It was destiny. His chance to prove himself better than the Father who rejected him and the brother who was always held up above him.

Briefly, only for a fraction of a second the illusion over Loki’s eyes fell away revealing the telling blue of those under the influence of the scepter as its magic worked to use these new emotions to bluster his dedication to the task he was given by cementing these beliefs.

Through the walls Loki’s inner eye let him see the group that was coming. A group of humans wrapped in magic of Loki’s weaving.

He smiled as a predator to its prey at the commander. 

“You’ll pay with your life for what you’ve done,” he promised.

A few seconds later he was proven right as the extraction team Barton assembled took the triad down.

***

The fates from where they watched were pleased. There were many chances for things in this chapter of Harriet’s development to go astray but the odds were in their favor that everything would work out as they desired. All the death, pain, and darkness they needed to allow for their plans was regrettable but necessary if events were to continue unfolding towards their goal.


	12. A Crew Without Their Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened while Harriet was being attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two people have commented on this but I figured its like dolphins. For those you can see there are always more you can’t. So SPOILERS SPOILER SPOILERS. The Fates in this story are not meant to be the good guys and they will not be continuing to play with Harriet and her life. SHE is the goddess of Fates. Soon she will know of them and their manipulations and when she does well, that’s a spoiler too far. The point is don’t worry. This whole story is not going to be Harriet being jerked around by the Fates.

Getting through the helicarrier to the armory wasn’t a problem. Getting Thor to come along with him rather than joining Steve and Stark on engine repair or running off towards the sounds of action was a bit harder. Leaving Ginny and Hermione behind with only each other for support was harder still. But Harriet was clear. She wanted him and Thor to guard the Phase Two weaponry and so that is what they would do. With reports of engagement coming in Ron put trust in his people’s ability to handle it and plowed ahead. 

When Hermione called a Code Green he faltered for a moment before falling back into stride.

“Should we not assist,” Thor asked when Ron warned him what was happening.

“We’d only be in her way,” Ron assured him and in doing so reassured himself.

“She must be a mighty warrior,” Thor probed.

Ron felt offended on Hermione’s behalf. “She’s better than that. She’ll fight if she has to but more often than not she thinks her way through getting the job done without a confrontation.”

Slightly subdued Thor complimented, “An enviable skill.”

“A good one for a Prince to practice,” Ron said lightening his tone to soften the jab.

“Aye,” Thor agreed as he followed Ron in jumping down one last set of stairs.

With their destination ahead of them they slowed to take in their surroundings. Everything looked secure. 

John had reported that all Shield’s people should have cleared this area of the Helicarrier. Further more there were no reports of trouble in this section of the ship. Still. Better safe than sorry.

“Watch the hall,” Ron requested. 

Nodding in agreement Thor turned to take a ready stance. He eyed the hall fearlessly despite being armed only a knife. After the explosion Thor was going to summon Mjolnir but Ron put a stop to that. Handing his own knife over Ron told the god in no uncertain turns that he was not to call his weapon. Until Harriet said otherwise Thor was not to get his hammer back and besides, while Harriet was with Loki Ron preferred the divine weapon stay with her. 

After first checking that Thor’s attention was entirely elsewhere Ron placed an illusion to hide what he was really doing from the cameras. Once that was seen to he turned his magic to opening the door. Casting a glance over the room his goggles showed no sign of anyone inside. It appeared reports were right and the intruders were steering clear of the armory. With Thor on guard duty Ron proceeded in with his wand drawn to check that everything was indeed secure.

As he did his sweep Ron couldn’t help the way his eyes lingered on the cases. He’d seen the schematics for the weapons they were holding and while he didn’t understand the science it didn’t stop him from understanding they were dangerous. Ron felt like he was a basilisks den. He wanted nothing more than to crush all the eggs before any could hatch. Steal every last part away to hide them where they could never be found. Muggles were dangerous enough without leaving this kind of technology in their reach. Harriet had said it wasn’t the time to deal with Phase two but with a plan forming in his mind Ron thought it might be worth asking her to reconsider.

With a thought he directed his coms to connect with Harriet and Harriet alone. “Got a question for you Director.”

A small swell of worry tried to push forward as Ron waited but got no response.

He tried again, “Director?”

When there was still no response he quickly opened up his com to John as well. “Cal, I can’t reach the Director.”

Having heard him at the doorway Thor looked in with concern but Ron was quick to signal him to keep his attention on the corridor.

“What,” was John’s bitten response. 

He knew John well enough that the idea he might be mad at Harriet never crossed Ron’s mind. He knew right off that if John was angry it was at whatever might have harmed Harriet.

“Fifteen-seconds and if you don’t hear from me you go to her,” John ordered.

As Ron counted down the seconds he moved back to join Thor who was looking at him expectantly. Ron held a finger up to the god hoping he would understand that meant he should wait.

With two seconds left on the clock John returned over the coms. His tone had turned from predominately anger to frustration which settled Ron’s nerves. “She’s managed to take down Loki’s interference.”

“Okay,” Ron said not understanding why that would keep Harriet from answering.

“Instead of waiting to get off ship she’s looking for answers now.”

And went Harriet went looking for answers she always turned to divination first. In the old days that meant tea readings and crystal balls but these days she’d moved beyond looking to foci first especially with a bunch of outsiders around. 

“And she’s gotten lost in looking. Too lost to hear her coms which means she is definitely too distracted to watch her own back,” Ron concluded. He understood now why John was frustrated. He loved that woman but sometimes the biggest threat to Harriet was herself. “Please tell me she’s got someone with her.”

“She sent everyone off to other areas of the ship. You’re the closest but you like the rest of us have orders to follow.”

“And I couldn’t leave Thor to stand guard while I check detention,” Ron suggested not at all concerned with that fact that this would be insubordination.

Rather than a direct dismissal his comment was followed by a moment of considering silence. Disappointingly the ultimate answer was still no. “We have our orders. We stay where we are and trust the Director to have a handle of things until there’s proof otherwise. But, the second there is a hint of trouble I give my permission for you to move.”

That wouldn’t stop Ron from getting in trouble for defying Harriet’s orders but it did mean when the time for lectures came John would be at his side.

“Yes Sir,” Ron agreed with a frown. He really would have preferred to go to Harriet immediately no matter how reasonable the compromise sounded.

“And I’ve got further news for you,” John distracted him.

Rubbing at his temples Ron asked, “What now.”

“Coulson is headed your way. Fury took the initiative of sending him to pick up some Phase Two tec before heading to Loki.”

“And you couldn’t dissuade him,” Ron asked out of curiosity.

“He did it out of my earshot after we lost the engine. By all rights we shouldn’t know the order was given.”

“The guy can’t help but to stick his nose into things can he,” Ron complained.

Ignoring that John said, “Its up to you to keep Coulson from interfering.”

“This is just not our day-” thinking of the break in he quickly amended. “No, make that a week.”

“We were due for it,” John said resigned.

Ron gave a snort but agreed. “Things can only go well for so long.”

John hummed his agreement.

Back at the start of their relationship Ron couldn’t have imagined having such an easy back and forth with John of all people. When he came into Harriet’s life Ron did trust this cousin who seemingly just appeared out of no where any more than he did Malfoy. With maturity Ron could admit that his suspicions had been driven by jealously over the way Harriet was with John. She’d looked up to him. Trusted him. Respected him. Gave him easy embraces and walked on his arm. All things he wanted with Harriet. Back then Ron couldn’t help but to see John as a threat. In time as his own confidence grew that changed. He learned to be objective and leave his feelings for Harriet out of how he perceived her cousin. 

Years past. Familiarity led to an understanding of each other which helped develop a sense of camaraderie between them as they both worked to ensure Harriet went on living her life safe and happy. 

These days Ron considered John one of his closest friends.

The clanking of footsteps on metal alerted both Ron and Thor that someone was following their path down the stairs. Thanks to his goggles he could spot the aura incoming long before he would have otherwise had a clear visual.

“And that’s Coulson incoming,” he reported to John while earning a confused look from through.

With their conversation coming to a close John told him, “Good luck.”  
Ron snorted. “Oh I’m all wrapped up in it,” he said referencing the heavy layering of Harriet’s particular magical gift which she had coated them all in before they left for Germany.

“Don’t waste it on being reckless. Do try to keep yourself in one piece.”

“Same to you,” were Ron’s final words to him before he was busy with Coulson who hopefully wouldn’t give him too much trouble. Things were chaotic enough as it was.

Ron was considerate enough to leave the coms open so he could have listen if he wanted to but Voldemort had more pressing matters to consume his attention. Besides, bizarre as it still seemed to him, Voldemort trusted Ron. He didn’t have friends. Harriet and Nagini were the two things most precious to him and their value was far beyond the measures of meager friendship… However, Voldemort would admit if pressed that there were those he preferred over others. Still, most people, even their people, Voldemort didn’t care overly much if they lived or died. Ron, he would prefer to live. When the time came his loss would be one of the few Voldemort would grieve over.

Turning Voldemort reeled his focus in to the man at his side. “Report.”

As he worked away at his station Admir reported, “They’ve finally realized the intruders are in Shield gear. They are sending out word now.”

“About time,” Voldemort sneered. “What about the hanger?”

“All anyone needed to hear was Hulk and they ran. The way should be clear for Metis unless one of ours messes up.”

“Good,” Voldemort approved.

The word like everything else that had been said went unheard by the muggles around them. If anyone looked their way it would appear they were both focused on the screens in front of them without a look in the other’s direction. Voldemort was using his tablet while shouting out the occasional bit of news to Fury about Buckler’s efforts not only in helping Stark but guarding the other engines while Admir was working away at his computer just like the bulk of other Shield agents present.

Admir was a squib, brought in to work for Shield during Carter’s reign. He like all the other magicals on the bridge apart from Voldemort were incapable of projecting an illusion let alone maintaining one. They were training to learn to do it using sorcery to channel the magical strength they lacked from other sources but it was hard to find the time when much of their lives were devoted to their work for Shield and maintaining their covers in the off hours. Thankfully Voldemort was more than able to do it for them allowing all their people to talk and coordinate while the greatest spy network on earth went on none the wiser as to what was happening in their midst.

Having their support was vital. With Harriet not able to keep track of everyone Voldemort worked with those on the bridge and back at command to keep things running smoothly but they were only just into this attack and things were more strained then they usually were when Harriet was running things safely off the field and viewing it with her Sight from afar.

Voldemort was about to order their quinjets off the carrier and into the air when word came to him that the Hulk had taken Hermione and jumped taking her off the ship with no support.

“Metis report,” Voldemort demanded. He didn’t need to fake the worry in his voice. 

“We’re good,” Hermione was quick to reassure. 

Voldemort closed his eyes in relief. Unlike Ron, Hermione was not one of his favorite people. In fact he often found her frustrating despite the value she had to their work but Harriet would be heartbroken if anything happened to her and Harriet heartbroken was one of the last things Voldemort wanted.

“We’re good. Hulk and I are taking a nice calm carpet ride. When we get a good secluded spot we’ll wait out the Code Green there.”

“Let us know if that changes,” Voldemort ordered. Without waiting for a response he switched back over to the Quinjets to carry on with his original intentions with a small amendment. “Flier one follow Metis but stay unseen. Make yourself known only on her orders. The rest of you get into the air. Be prepared to pick up anyone else who should fall. Don’t discriminate between ours and theirs. Save the muggles, stun them, and carry on. Flier two, you see any craft barring magicals trying to escape you follow but do not engage.”

“Grenade,” Hill shouted in warning to the room.

With that little warning Voldemort moved to block as much of Admir’s body as he could with his own as the squib was protected only by his lack luster Shield uniform while Voldemort had on standard ICW wear. A barrier to block any attacks and shrapnel would have been more effective but harder to disguise. Still Voldemort did his best to throw up some subtle protections on their people as in the wake of the grenade bullets were flying. Emergency portkeys were well and good but even magic couldn’t safe those already dead.

As shots continued to be fired between Shield and those trying to get on board Fury where he was crouched near by mumbled to himself. “They are not getting through here so what-”

Voldemort let out a scream as he experienced pain the likes of which he had not known in a very long time.

People turned to look him including Fury but almost immediately an explosion on the far side of the room stole their attention away.

As Admir worked to pull him down to cover another shot was fired into Voldemort’s back. Looking over his shoulder they both could see the shafts of two arrows protruding from his back. Arrows which thanks to his goggles Voldemort could see were drenched in malicious magic.

Before Voldemort could get revenge on the archer for wounding him Agent Barton succeeded in disrupting Shield’s systems. With another engine successfully taken from them Barton disappeared from his vantage point.

While the helicarrier began its uncontrolled decent Voldemort opened his coms to all their people to issued a warning about what he felt to be a greater concern. “Combatants can penetrate our armor. I repeat, the intruders can penetrate our armor. Avoid being hit at all costs. Treat their attacks as you would killing curses.”

Speaking over the last of his statement came Gabrielle who was helping manage things back at command. “Sir, your emergency portkey has been triggered. You will be removed from the field in thirty-seconds. If you are able get privacy from the muggles to avoid exposure we advise you do so.”

“No,” Voldemort growled. “I’m needed here. The Director is trusting me to-”

Getting snippy his assistant told him off. “The Director set up the protocols we are following. You are going to be removed from the field in twenty-seconds. Should you attempt to remove your portkey you will be removed immediately.”

Voldemort fumed as he looked around to take in his surroundings. Admir was giving him a sharp look undoubtedly ready to interfere if Voldemort did try to go for his portkey but beyond him the muggles were all focused on other things.

Resentfully Voldemort informed Gabrielle, “That pay raise you wanted? Not happening.”

Completely unconcerned she informed him, “Less than fifteen-seconds now.”

Baring his teeth he told Admir, “Do what you can here to keep things under control. If you have to knock Fury and Hill out to do it, so be it.”

“Yes Sir.”

Resigned Voldemort made one last check of his surroundings before throwing up an illusion to hide himself from sight entirely.

“I’m ready. Go ahead,” he ordered.

…Only for nothing to happen.

He waited a few more seconds but on the bridge of the Helicarrier he remained.

“Sir, whatever you did undo it,” Gabrielle demanded harshly.

“What are you talking about? I haven’t done anything,” Voldemort defended.

“I know you don’t went to leave but now is not the time-”

Interrupting her scolding he demanded, “What are you talking about?”

“I am talking about the fact that your portkey is activated and yet not transporting you as it should.

While processing that Voldemort wondered why exactly that might be. With as much sincerity as he could muster which was a great deal he promised, “I have done nothing to my portkey.”

It took Gabrielle a moment to decide if she would accept his word on the matter but trusting her boss would not play games with lives at stake she plowed ahead. “Then can you spot any reason it shouldn’t be working.”

Voldemort looked down at himself. Through his clothes the goggles could spot the magic of his portkey which was fastened to his chest and the magic leaking from the arrows. While that magic was attempting to infiltrate his system it was doing nothing to touch his portkey which glowed as it usually did. “Negative.” 

Looking up he said, “Admir.”

The man was smart enough to parcel out what was being asked of him. “Dittany and Mandrake,” he spoke which should seen his portkey activated, only he remained where he was.

“It would seem the problem is greater than only me,”Voldemort reported.

“Then the interference must be over an area of effect,” Gabrielle reasoned worriedly.

Ron was correct. This was not their week.

Voldemort opened his coms wide once again. “Attention, we have reports of portkey suppression. Be advised that your portkey may not work in the event of your injury or if purposely triggered.”

When he finished Gabrielle advised. “Sir, you need to make your way to one of the quinjets to be medevacked out.”

Voldemort ignored her. 

With systems successfully taken out the attacks on the bridge had ceased. Fury and Hill were distracted with the probability of a crash landing so the bodies of the fallen intruders were being ignored. Despite the pain and the shafts still protruding from his back Voldemort left Admir to his work while he made his way over to bodies. He did not want any weapons capable of injuring a magical left in the hands of Shield. Ignoring his pain Voldemort worked to place trackers on the dead before collecting the magical items they carried and their weapons which he stored away in the expanded pockets of his jacket. 

His magic was fighting back against the curse the arrows brought with them but even for someone of Voldemort’s caliber it was straining. Persevering against the pain he trudged on. Using magic to help him keep his footing he moved out into the hall beyond the bridge to continue this work on the fallen there while speaking over the coms to advice others to do the same while fielding their requests for instruction and ignoring Gabrielle’s snips she threw in while working to relay prevalent information to him since Admir was no longer near by to see to it. 

He’d seen to the last body when he saw another laying at the end of the hall. This one belonged not to one of Loki’s but to one of Fury’s people. Their aura was growing weak as their injures got the better of them. Without aid it would snuff out entirely when their soul passed on from this life.

Knowing it is what Harriet would want him to do Voldemort worked his way down the hall to the agent. After casting a few quick bits of spellwork to keep the woman alive Voldemort went to hoist her up intending to bring along with him back to the bridge. As he made to lift her the arrow heads in his back shifted causing a new spike of pain. 

Screaming Voldemort stumbled to the side.

Unknown to him those few feet of stumbling put Voldemort out of range from the magics on Loki’s people which were stopping his portkey from activating. His stumbled ended with him falling to the floor not on the helicarrier but in one of the ICW’s facilities which was serving to host command that day. The combination of the pain, the curse, and portkey travel was too much. For the first time since he was a first year Voldemort vomited before he could cast the charm to repress it. 

Around him ICW personnel were doing evaluations, working to confirm his identity, and checking to ensure he hadn’t brought anything back with him which required quarantine. Among them was Gabrielle who was looking concerned. Once he was announced clear she moved to Voldemort’s side while the intake team worked to levitate him up so he could be moved to medical.

“Standard asset procedure on the muggle,” Gabrielle asked him as she spelled him clean of vomit.

“Yes,” he answered. 

That was all she needed to begin setting to work on it. When she’d first come to work for him efficiency had not been one of Gabrielle’s best qualities but with Percy out matching her day after day her competitiveness pushed her do better until she became a true force to be reckoned with.

Reminded of just how valuable she had become Voldemort told her, “I think I’ll reconsider that raise.”

Gabrielle’s worried chuckles followed after him as Voldemort was taken away. It was amusing to him that someone under his authority was genuinely concerned about his well being. Before Harriet those who genuinely cared for him were few and far between and those who did were generally not all together right in the head.

In medical Narcissa and Snape were waiting for his arrival. While the intact team debriefed them on his condition Voldemort took in the other injured. He was insulted to see they were all muggles making him the first of their people to be brought in. He was anticipating the mocking to come from this when a primal awareness grew up inside him triggering a need to act, defend, fight. Seeing no cause for it in his surroundings Voldemort looked inside himself for the source. He found it coming from his connection to Harriet. She was injured. She was more than injured she was-

“Lance get to the Director now,” Voldemort shouted over the coms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this took so long everyone. I was struggling. So I took a break to go back to work on editing part one (which I can’t even say I finished doing yet) and then I just… didn’t work on this story. I don’t know if it was life or this chapter specifically but something just wasn’t clicking. Actually I take that back. I’m pretty sure it was 98% life. Life and how a large part of specifically my life is ill health and a lack of money and worrying about the people in my life and how one day I’ll loose them. These aren’t the best things to have weighing on your mind when trying to create. I did my best though. There is actually a whole second part that was originally going to be part of this chapter but will now be its own just so I can can something out to you sooner rather than later. I pushed and hopefully it worked out okay. Let me know in the comments if you think so or not. And as always thank you all who do leave comments. I can’t express what they mean to me even if sometimes I struggle with getting back to you in a timely manor.


	13. A Crew Without Their Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Harriet injured and unable to command the others have to handle the situation on the helicarrier without her leadership. Or What happened after Harriet was injured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this took so long, but it's finally here. It’s finally done and for those of you who like them it is a long chapter. There are parts of it I really love and parts of it I almost hate but I’m… mostly happy to have it done. Hopefully life will start cooperating and the next chapter won’t take so long. Especially as we are approaching the one year anniversary of this story.

A god, a wizard, and a Shield Agent lingered in the hall twittering their thumbs while elsewhere on the Helicarrier others were fighting and working desperately to keep them in the air.

Talking Coulson out of going to Detention had been easier than Ron expected. He was willing to stand down once Ron pointed out that his orders came from Fury and Fury was not in charge at the moment. He still insisted on arming himself with a piece of phase four tec though. That was something Ron couldn’t talk him out of.

“Do you even know what that does,” Ron asked jutting his chin to the frankly comically large gun.

“Honestly,” Coulson said with a self deprecating smile. “Its above my clearance.”

Ron didn’t find that comforting. “Don’t go firing it in my direction then, huh.”

His curiosity peaked Thor asked, “Is this not a typical weapon for Earth’s warriors?”

“Guns, yes. That,” Ron gestured at Coulson, “no.”

“Its something we’ve been developing based-”

Ron couldn’t hear what else Coulson said as it was drown out by John yelling urgently in his ear, “Lance get to the Director now!”

He was moving before he had to think about it. 

“What’s happened,” he demanded as he took off running down the hall. Thor was only a step behind him and Coulson a step behind that.

For the first time in Ron’s memory John sounded panicked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know and I can’t get to her! Something is blocking me. But she’s injured. She’s- I think she’s dying.”

Ron's step faltered as the news hit him. He’d never experience something like it before. He didn’t have a context to put the sensation into words. A bludger to the stomach would be less impactful. 

Harriet. Dying. That was something he never wanted to hear in his life. In an instant his priorities reorganized themselves. Suddenly everything else dropped down several rungs on the ladder making room for whatever needed to happen to ensure Harriet did not die. His orders. His safety. Secrecy. None of it mattered as much as that.

Disregarding the god and muggle with a clear sight on him Ron attempted to apparate to Loki’s cell where Harriet was meant to be.

“I’m blocked as well,” Ron admitted with a frown as he started running again. “Sling rings?”

“Not working.”

“Can we See anything?”

“I’m getting our Sighted on it,” Gabrielle assured. “But Loki’s people are shaded from them. They aren’t as completely hidden as he was-”

“Just do your best,” Ron’s told her.

“Do better than best,” John growled.

“What is happening,” Thor asked from Ron’s side.

“Somethings happened at Loki’s cell,” Ron explained.

That was all Thor needed to hear to abandon keeping pace with Ron. Using all the speed afforded to him as an Asgardian he rushed on ahead.

“Dammit, don’t,” Ron called out after him but he wasn’t listened to. He was tempted to send a stunner to force the issue but he knew it wouldn’t have much of an effect on the likes of Thor.

“What is it,” John demanded as the God-Who-Refused-To-Listen disappeared off ahead.

“Thor’s gone rogue,” Ron explained. “He’s headed for detention ahead of me.”

“He can’t,” John said still in that same growling harsh tone. “We don’t know the situation. He could make it worse.”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Ron promised.

“How far out are you?”

“Don’t know,” he bit out. He was more concerned with moving forward then figuring out how far he still had to go.

“Wh-” John abruptly cut off. Their was a beat of silence over the line broken by a shaky exhale which sounded suspiciously close to becoming a sob.

“What! What,” Ron asked urgently. “John!”

Nothing.

“What is happening?!”

With forced levelness Gabrielle explained, “The Director’s portkey was able to bring her in. We’re getting her to medical now.”

Ron sagged, literally crumbling into the wall besides.

“How is she? What’s her status?”

“What’s happening,” Coulson called from further back down the hall where he’d lagged unable to keep up.

Ron waved him off.

“They’ve just started looking her over now. When they tell me something I’ll tell you,” Gabrielle said. The words were inviting Ron not to press for details but the forced measure of Gabrielle’s voice had ruined the relief he’d felt at knowing Harriet was somewhere safe. There was something she didn’t want to tell him. Something about Harriet.

“What is it,” he said not as her in law or a friend but as Lance, a commander of the ICW who outranked her and who would be listened to.

Gabrielle spoke gently. “She’s encased in ice.”

Dumbfounded Ron blinked. That wasn’t at all the sort of dire revelation he was expecting to hear. Smiling in his confusion he asked, “What?”

Gabrielle rephrased, “She’s been entombed in ice.”

“Loki’s doing,” Ron asked worriedly.

“…No Ron. The ice bares her magic. She made it.”

“So she was shielding herself,” he guessed. It had taken a lot of training for Harriet to figure out how to conjure the ice her Jotunn ancestors and Voldemort were reported to have used. Just about any witch or wizard worth their salt could create ice. First years could do it. But the stuff a Jotunn’s magic could create was stronger then most metals making it handy to conjure for both defensive and offensive purposes. Harriet didn’t like to use it fort heir work though as it risked exposing ‘Director Smith’ as having Jotunn heritage which was too clear a similarity to Harriet Potter, a well known half blood for someone not to draw a connection.

Frowning Ron said, “She must have been pretty desperate.”

“She was using it to defend herself,” Gabrielle said carefully. “Only not in the way you’re thinking.”

“What do you mean? Did the Seers get a look at what happened?”

“No, not yet.”

“What’s taking them so long!?”

“Sir,” Gabrielle stressed causing Ron to hold his tongue and wait for her to speak. Returning to her gentle tone she continued. “Sir, I don’t think you understand. She is entombed in ice. Not covered or shielded but completely encased. Its what Jotunn do when there is nothing else that can be done. Remember? Its what they do to save themselves when they are on the brink of death.”

And yes. He did remember now that she said it, stirring up old memories of Hermione explaining what a Jotunn was after Voldemort revealed Harriet’s ancestry. “They freeze themselves to buy time.”

“Yes.”

Ron let out a shaky breath.

John was right. Harriet had been dying. She still was on the brink of death, just frozen at the last second before she fell over the edge. 

Ron hung his head and rubbed at his face.

From a few feet away Coulson asked again, “What is happening?”

Ron looked up at him not knowing what to say.

“Sir,” Gabrielle prompted. “As the highest ranking agent not in medical you are in charge now. I need to know how you want to proceed.”

Taking a deep breath Ron thumped his fist down against the wall. How he wanted to progress and how they should progress were two very different things, but Harriet had put him in this position because she trusted him to do what was right. He wasn’t going to prove her wrong.

“Get me those reports. We need to know what happened and if Loki is free.”

Gabrielle didn’t hesitate. “Yes sir.”

With his coms going quiet Ron turned his focus on Coulson who was studying him. Looking back Ron thought about everything he’d revealed that he shouldn’t have. If Coulson was smart he would have taken advantage of Ron’s distraction to report to Fury which would mean simply obliviating him wouldn’t do any good.

The best thing Ron could do to spare himself further complications in an already precarious situation was to remove the risk of what else Coulson might see.

With acting skills learned through years of training Ron focused his eyes down the hall over Coulson’s shoulder, tensed his muscles, began moving as thought to draw on a threat. Seeing these signs Coulson turned, raising his own weapon expecting to find a threat behind him and in doing so put his back to Ron. With an effortless stunner Ron had the Agent out and a simple levitation saw Coulson and his weapon lowered gently to the ground. Coming forward Ron picked up the piece of Phase Four tec while eyeing it with a scowl.

An awful thought popped into his mind.

“The cameras are still down aren’t they,” he asked knowing would be just the kind of luck they were having that Shield got their cameras back up just in time to capture Ron taking out one of their top men.

“Camera are still down ship wide,” Gabrielle reported.

“Small mercies,” Ron grumbled.

“Sir, the Sighted are reporting that Loki is out.”

Ron rolled his eyes for having jinxed himself. “Do they have a location?”

“He’s still in detention… He’s managed to trap Thor in his cell.”

“How’d he do that? Did he use his magic?” 

“No. Sadly just a simple trick.”

“…And Thor still fell for it?”

“And he’s about to take an even greater fall for doing so. Loki’s releasing the cell.”

That brought Ron up short. “He’s dropping him? His own brother?”

“Your orders Sir?”

“Send a craft after him. Get Thor out before he goes splat.”

“And Loki?”

Ron frowned. They were dealing with a man titled the Trickster God and without Harriet’s guidance Ron was hesitating for fear of falling into a trap. Even if Loki hadn’t used magic to trick Thor he still could have figured out a way to access it or he could have used magic to trap Thor and was continuing to use it to fool their Seers. Who knew what tricks Loki had learned over the centuries and whether or not their restraints were really capable of holding up to them. Until he heard otherwise Ron believed that Loki having accessed his magic was the most reasonable explanation of how he could get the jump on someone like Harriet. If they moved in to engage Loki without the element of surprise or proper coordination they could be risking a lot of lives.

“Cal, what do you think? Do we engage?” 

Instead of Cal’s smooth voice Gabrielle’s continued speaking to him. “I’m afraid he’s out Sir.”

“Out,” Ron asked nonplus.

“He’s still in medical but he passed out while being treated. He’s sleeping now and the healers recommend he stay that way.”

So it was all on him. Completely on him. Ron took a deep breath. “Have the Seers looked back yet to see what exactly happened to the Director?”

“I think that got a bit distracted in the immediate future.”

“And what can they see of it?”

“The protections over Loki’s people don’t obscure things as thoroughly as what he had on him but they muddle the waters and they are with him now making details and what is being said completely unclear to the Seers. As for the future they can’t really say what actions will lead to the best results.”

“They won’t say you mean,” Ron corrected with a frown.

“The Director is the only one on a level to say anything with certainty… Sir, we have reports that the Quinjet which brought Loki’s people in is taking off.”

“But I thought Loki was in detention? Did he transport to the flight deck?”

“…The Sighted still say he’s there.”

“So are they being fooled or is the Quinjet leaving without him.”

“…The Quinjet is heading for the underside of the Helicarrier. It seems likely Loki intends to jump out to it rather than making his way through the ship.”

Ron frown. “It would save him from further engaging with us. From facing the unknown.” Just like Ron was worried about doing.

“And if the scepter was his means of controlling others he doesn’t have a way to replace the people he has if they fall.”

Ron took a deep calming breath of his own.  He tried to organize his mind but he struggled.  He was an emotionally driven person.  Over the years he’d learned to utilize it in his favor but it definitely worked against him with Occlumency.  There was a small comfort to knowing that the rest of his siblings struggled as much as him.  None of them were good at snuffing out their emotions the way the likes of Snape or Narcissa could.  Ron did however manage to clear his mind enough to make a decision. Whether for right or wrong he was going with his gut.

“Let Loki go. This isn’t Germany and he doesn’t want bringing in. Set a tail on him but have them keep their distance. They are not to engage. Things are bad enough. We don’t need to force further confrontation.”

“Understood,” Gabrielle replied before disappearing from his coms as she went off to organize and relay orders.

Ron used the wait to further organize his mind and plan.

“Loki has left on the Quinjet. Our people are trailing him.”

“Don’t alert those on board just yet. We don’t want them letting down their guard if this is a trick.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“What’s the state of the engines?”

“Engine one is still down but engine three has just been brought back online.”

“Have a small force stand guard to ensure it stays that way. Have the rest that are going to be seen cluster than move to defend our Quinjets.” Thinking of the ones they had to send off after Odin’s sons he amended, “What’s left of them anyway. Have them see to any of our injured there. Do we know yet why we can’t transport?”

“Yes. Sorry for having not told you. Its a curse of some kind on the bodies of Loki’s people. Once you’re out of range it shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“Then start sending the staging teams in. We need all of Loki’s people injured and dead alike collected along with anything they brought with them. I don’t want any weapons capable of piercing our armor left behind for Shield to get their hands on.”

“Understood. We have-” Abruptly she cut off.

Ron waited a few seconds but when she didn’t come back on her own he asked, “What is it?”

“One moment,” she requested. There was something in her voice he didn’t like. He wanted to push for an explanation but instead held his tongue giving her time while he considered all the things that could have gone wrong and what changes they would necessitate to their plans.

When she returned Gabrielle’s voice was tight with suppressed fury, “Sir, the Seers just delivered their report. We know what happened to the Director.”

“Tell me.”

“Her injury did come from one of Loki’s men using a cursed blade laced with doxy venom. The Director was able to take out her attacker. You’ll be happy to know he is dead.”

“Then why do you sound so pissed,” Ron pushed wanting her to get on with whatever it was she was putting off saying. He knew it had to be bad given her willingness to talk about the weapon used but not this.

“… After the Director was incapacitated three Shield Agents arrived on the scene. When they found her, they tried to shove the Director out of the Helicarrier. They came to the room intending to kill her. That was their purpose defying our orders and entering detention.”

The worse part of the news, the worse part of it all was how little of a surprise it was.  This was Shield’s MO.  What they don’t like, what they can’t control, they eliminate.  They were blind to other possibilities.  All they knew how to do was destroy.  The exact opposite of Harriet and what she was trying to do for the world which was exactly why Shield didn’t like her.

Ron looked down at where Coulson lay. Any guilt Ron had been feeling for turning on him had evaporated and in its place was a kind of seething suspicion as he wonder if Coulson would have stabbed him in the back had Ron not taken him down first.

“What are your orders,” Gabrielle asked. Because this was war. This was conflict. There wasn’t time to linger on allies attempting to assassinate them in conditions like these. It just had to be accepted.

Over his coms a new voice cut in.

“This is Joan. I’m with Agent Romanoff. We have Agent Barton. Requesting instruction,” Ginny reported, her coms connecting her to him as the acting authority on the helicarrier.

Ron’s hand flexed on his wand as he continued to stare down at Coulson’s unconscious form.  Agent Romanoff, one of the best assassins in the world.  A woman who had a proven history of engaging in killing was alone with his baby sister.

“Hello.  Director Smith.  Cal.”  Panic was slipping into her voice.  “Lance, this is Joan.  Do you copy?”

What should he tell her?  What was safe to tell her with the likes of the Black Widow was at her side?

Forcing his clenched teeth to separate Ron managed to get out, “I copy Joan.”

“What’s happened,” she asked clearly full of panic, showing her vulnerabilities to a person trained to use them against her.

“The Director and Lance were moved off site.” 

“What happened,” she repeated this time in her usual demanding tone rather than panic. 

“Later,” he told her.

Before he could continue she cut in.  “Are they alright?”

Ron flexed his jaw.  He’d known Ginny wasn’t ready for the field.  With one major failure already under her belt she was proving it yet again.  “You don’t get to make demands here.  Now report.  What is your situation?”

He could hear her resentment as Ginny reported.  “I’m with Agent Romanoff.  We were able to catch up to and secure Agent Barton.”  
“By secure you mean?”

“He’s out cold.”

“Your doing or Romanoff’s?”

“Mine.”

“Stunner?”

“Yes sir,” Ginny confirmed with a hint of sarcasm.

Ron couldn’t believe her. She knew something had gone badly enough for Harriet and John, two of the most competent people they knew to be pulled from the field and yet she was acting like they were back at home, out of uniform, just- what, hanging out? He was her superior officer currently in charge of this entire operation and she was giving him lip? While in the presence of a Shield Agent no less. Even if it was a coping mechanism this was not okay. When everything was over he would be issuing an ultimatum. Ginny would be removed from any further field service or it was early retirement for him.

“Stand by for orders,” Ron requested, hoping his mule headed sister would actually listen.  Switching to speak to Gabrielle he requested.  “You free?”

“Awaiting orders,” she reported. Her professionalism was a reassuring contrast to Ginny’s behavior.

“I need two guards in the mirror dimension shadowing Joan to watch her back and another pair each on Director Fury, Hill, and each of the Avengers respectively.”  Trusting Gabrielle to keep up he continued listing off without stopping.  “I need all our staging teams deployed throughout the ship. Their top priorities should be maintaining secrecy and gathering Loki’s people along with anything they brought along with them. Then it will be cleanup as usual. Distribute them throughout the ship but make it clear that Detention is off limits. Send Al to my location.”

“On it,” Gabrielle reported. She left her coms open so Ron could hear as she started updating the others in command over what needed to be done. 

Switching to connect with Ginny again Ron asked, “Joan?”

“Ready to talk now are you,” she snipped.

Trying to lead by example Ron ignored her attitude. He ordered her, “Get Agent Barton to medical then stay there. I’ll meet up with you soon.”

“On it,” she responded but her words didn’t instill the same confidence in Ron that they had when Gabrielle said them.  
“Keep your coms open as you go,” Ron told her.  Before she could argue or worse, deliberately turn off her coms in rebellion he gave the excuse, “More Shield Agents may have been compromised then we originally expected.  Until you have one of ours with you its best we can hear if something goes wrong.”  
Distantly Ron could hear Romanoff asking something. 

Without hesitating Ginny relayed the information to her. “Apparently more Shield agents may have been under Loki’s spell then we thought. Do we know whose most likely to be compromised? Can we trust their Doctors,” she said directing the question at him.  
“That was not information to be shared Agent,” Ron said trying to keep his voice level. Knowing that Ginny would need a reason she found acceptable to listen he gave her one that was true, even if it wasn’t all of it. “Remember, you don’t know who might be listening. The coms are spelled to prevent eavesdropping. No one can hear what you do, but they can hear what you say.”

“Right. Sorry,” Ginny said sounding genuinely apologetic.

Ron almost wanted to apologize himself. He knew how Ginny needed to be handled and as her superior he should have been acting on that all along instead of his frustration.

“Just keep it in mind. The Doctor’s should be alright but stay alert. Don’t turn your back on anyone. Not even Romanoff.”

“…Understood,” Ginny assured seriously. “See you soon.”

While keeping the ability to hear Ginny, Ron switched back over to speak to Gabrielle who had gone quiet while he was talking to Ginny, waiting patiently for him to finish.

“Set someone up in command to monitor Joan’s coms,” he requested. “And whomever you have backing her up get them there faster.  Make it clear they have the right to shut her up if she’s saying things she shouldn’t.”

Without speaking Gabrielle set someone to the task as she had more important information she needed to relay to him. “Sir, you should know Admir took the liberty of arranging for Shield to be unable to access the Helicarrier’s internal cameras for some time and the staging teams are deploying now to the Quinjets and will disperse from there. Al would like to know if she should do the same and then head to you.”

“Give me a sec,” Ron requested. With a quick charm he arranged that no sound he might make would be heard by anyone else. Then he attempted to apparate. With a crack he disappeared from where he stood and with another he reappeared on the other side of Coulson’s body. Throwing up some extra spells for privacy he informed Gabrielle, “Let her know she can come in directly to my location.”

“Giving your coordinates to her now… she will be with you shortly.”

“Good. Once she’s here I’m going to need to focus on what we are doing. It will be up to you to run things unless there is something big you need me for.”

“I’ll keep everyone in order and run interference so you aren’t disturbed,” Gabrielle promised. “But I need to know what you want to do about the Director and Shields intentions for her.”

Keeping his eye on the hall for anyone coming by Ron asked, “Who else knows what happened?”

“Just the Seers and us.”

“Good,” Ron said with great relief. “Then make certain John doesn’t learn about Shield turning on us and what they intended to do. Once he wakes up keep him in medical and in the dark. Once he’s cleared he’ll be acting director and I can’t imagine he’s going to handle the news well. We need things settled here before we find out.”

“What about the rest of our people on the Helicarrier? Shall I tell them what you did Joan to keep them on alert?”

“Yes, and keep word that the Director and Lance are down contained.”

“We’ll make sure of it,” Gabrielle promised, undoubtedly already having her underlings at work. “You can expect Al in 4, 3, 2, 1.”

Above Coulson’s body the telltale markings of a sling ring portal opening began to spark in the air. As the portal widened Ron got a view of one Alicia Spinnet disguised in her IWC alter which was known simply as Al. She worked in a very specific nick of their organization. The Staging Department. These individuals specialized in making things look how they wanted them to look. They were the key to keeping secrets and making lies look like truth. After several years working with as a member of the Department Alicia had recently begun training to take over as Head of Staging.

Normally Ron would have trusted any of the Staging Personnel to come in and do the job they were trained for, but they were not in normal circumstances. Most of the ICW and the Investigators had no idea that Director Smith was in fact Harriet Potter. Outside the core leaders of the IWC the only ones who knew the truth were those that had been recruited from the old crowd.  Alicia as a member of the D.A. was in on the secret. That she knew was why Ron had requested her specifically for what they were going to do.

Quickly Ron and Alicia on their respective sides of the portal ran through the series of spells meant to prove their identity. Once that precaution was taken care of Alicia stretched the portal till it was large enough for her to step through. Making smooth work of it she closed the way behind her.

Forgoing any kind of formal greeting she remarked, “Blocking apparition we’ve got plenty of experience with. Blocking portkeys too. But someone being able to block the rings? That is something new and frankly kind of terrifying. Please tell me we knew this was something that could be done and its just above my clearance.”

“We knew it was a possibility,” Ron admitted. “We just prefer to keep it quiet.”

Alicia sighed. “Well, that’s a relief.”

Looking down at Coulson she asked, “What have you got for me?”

Looking down on Coulson himself Ron’s eyes tightened. “We’re bringing him in as an asset. I need you to create a stand in.”

Alicia nodded, easily accepting the task. From her supply pack she pulled out a rolled up bag. As she laid it out on the floor next to Coulson its form as a body bag became clear. A benefit of expanded wizard space was that looking at the bag laying there it appeared perfectly flat and empty but as Alicia pulled back the zipper she revealed the humanoid form within. It wasn’t a dead body but it had been made from cadavers. Ron didn’t know where the technique had come from and he didn’t think he wanted to, but Harriet and John had found a way to make Golems out of dead bodies in order to create extremely, disturbingly realistic replicas of a person. They couldn’t walk around and live a life but they could manage a small set of chosen basic activities. As of yet it seemed there wasn’t any muggle scientific means of differentiating the fake from the original. Even with magic most people could be tricked into believing it was a real living body.

Once the golem was revealed Alicia got out her blood drawing kit. She could have used a simple spell to get a blood sample she needed but they’d found for the best results they needed to leave magic out of this part of the process. Instead they relied on muggle made needles to collect with.

As she looked for a vein in Coulson’s arm Alicia asked, “What story are we setting up here? Do we want them to think he’s dead or?”

Not liking to watch the needle actually doing its thing, Ron kept his eyes on the hall instead as he explained what he had in mind. “I’d like to make it look like we got taken by surprise. It would probably be best if he could appear conscious at some point but I don’t want them thinking they can get answers from him. Long term… Let them think he’s in a coma they can’t wake him out of. It will give us wiggle room to decide what to do later.”

If Coulson had nothing to do with the planned assassination of Harriet they would probably get what they needed to know from him, modify his memories, then swap him out with the golem and let him go on living his life. If he was culpable well then they’d be keeping him and if they were keeping him they could just let the golem appear to die or they could train someone to take Coulson’s place, live his life pretending to be him for as long as that was useful to the ICW. They did this with plenty of assets. At first Ron hadn’t felt right about the practice but really, was it all that different from what they’d done as second years, drugging Crab and Goyle to take their places in the hopes of getting the information out of Malfoy about the chamber of secrets? Ron reasoned not and the people they generally dealt with were a lot more deserving than Crab and Goyle.

Once she had the blood Alicia injected it into the golem and then it was time for the actual magic to happen. It was a tricky bit of alchemy to bring a golem ‘to life' but Alicia was an old hand. It didn’t take her hours or even minutes, but seconds to have the whole procedure done leaving the unconscious Coulson laying on the floor and his doppelgänger laying beside him looking much worse off than the original as he’d bene given a set of bullet wounds.

While Alicia checked her work on the golem Ron borrowed a portkey from her which he attached to Coulson’s chest.

Reaching out to Command he informed them, “I have a new asset ready for transport.”

“Status and Portkey,” the agent in charge of overseeing incoming assets asked.

“Stunned and stable,” Ron reported then described the portkey, “Red hexagon pin.”

“Got it. We can take him now. Activating portkey in nine,” while the agent voiced the countdown Ron backed off to make certain he wasn’t touching any part of Coulson to get pulled in with him. By the time Coulson was gone Alicia was finished her check.

“Everything’s good to go when your ready. So, you want to tell me what we’re doing with this body cause if this was a simple switch out you wouldn’t have asked for me specifically.”

“Pack him up,” Ron requested. “I’ll show you where we need to go.”

Alicia eyed him with concern but didn’t push Ron about his reticence.

After zipping the body bag closed and rolling it up the pair of them dropped the spells they’d placed on the hall. Taking point Ron remained silent as he led the way forward through detention to Loki’s cell. Just outside in the hall was the body of one of Loki’s men. Thanks to their googles they could see that the aura of the body gave no hint of life. They would not be able to successfully revive him.

Moving forward into the room their were more bodies waiting for them. All were Shield and all but one of the three was beyond saving. The last was not breath and had no heartbeat but there was still a chance that with magic he could be saved, and as that was the case Alicia made to rush to his side but Ron held her back.

“Capture the scene first.”

“But, it may be too late by then. We always see to those we can save first,” she explained as if he didn’t know that. It was one of the first changes Harriet had made to protocol. With her preserving life was put above over things, which is exactly why she wouldn’t approve of what he was doing. Which was why Alicia was looking at him like he was crazy.

Nodding his head Ron let Alicia go.

Rushing off she made her way over to the body. 

“I have a new asset,” she said starting the process of getting him out while nonverbally casting spells to help hold him over in these precious seconds before he was sent on into the hands of their healers. Ron couldn’t help but to feel those healers should be focused on Harriet and one of the men who’d been sent to kill her.

Looking away he took in the room. As his eyes passed over the walk way up to the cell his attention was caught by some ice clinging to the grating… and blood. There was blood on the floor. Ron became lost in the sight of it and imagining how it had come to be spilled.

“Ron,” Alicia asked startling him out of himself. Behind her he could see that the man was gone and on her face he could see she was worried. 

“What happened here,” she asked. “I checked things over. That ice it’s… hers. And so is the blood. Is she?”

Ron took a deep breath. Putting his hand on her shoulder he could feel as well as see Alicia brace herself.

“One of the Loki’s men was able to get at the Director. We got her out. She’s stable and being taken care of as we speak. That’s all I can tell you.”

Alicia took a shuddering breath. Reaching up she gave Ron’s hand a squeeze. Closing her eyes she focused on breathing for a moment, but a moment was all she afforded for before focusing on the job at hand.

“What do you need me to do,” she asked.

Ron gave her a weak smile in gratitude. “We need the scene captured as best we can and then it needs to be scrubbed clean. Magical. Muggle. It doesn’t matter. If someone comes here looking for answers I don’t want them to be able to find anything but what we create.” He shook his head. “They can’t know what really happened here. We can’t leave anything for them to find. Especially the blood and the ice.”

Alicia gave a nod. Turning her attention to the room she began her work. She would capture and record every detail of the room from the mundane to the magical, physical and not. If they knew how to perceive it she would be making a record of it.

“Once every things sterile how do you want me to stage the scene?”

While watching her work Ron explained. “All the bodies go with us. Leave replacements for Shield of their people, Loki’s in the hall, and we’ll need one of the Director as well. We’ll work with Command to figure who was meant to be here with her but wasn’t seen elsewhere on the ship during the attack. We’ll recall them back here and if we can’t place in doubles. The Director’s double only needs to look good. We’ll be taking it and the others directly to the jets with the excuse that we’re evacing them back to one of our facilities.”

“I have enough golems to accommodate that. We won’t have to send for extra.”

“Good. We’ll be going with the story that we don’t know what happened exactly but I want it to look like some sort of alien weapon was used by Loki’s people to take ours out without killing them. When the guard was down his people freed him. Shield’s people arrived as this was happening and Loki’s took them out. One of his, the one in the hall was wounded. They left him behind so as not to be slowed down. We’re going to make it look he attack Coulson and I in the hall. Coulson was hit. I took out his attacker.”

“Easy,” Alicia said with some relief.

With a small smile Ron teased, “For you maybe,”

***

Ginny was by no means weak. Years of Quidditch had helped her to build up muscle and her ICW training helped her keep it. But Clint Barton was a grown man and well, Ginny had what some might call a Seeker build. Unlike Harriet she’d never grown out of it despite her hopes that she’d take after her father when it came to height. Instead she took after her father in build but her mother in height That is to say, Ginny was small. She didn’t like to think of herself as such but it was true. Barton on the other hand was not small. At nearly six foot and with a good deal of muscle himself he wasn’t exactly an easy burden for her to carry. Thankfully as well as being small, Ginny was a witch.

She would have preferred to be on point as her wand was more useful than a gun but Natasha who didn’t know that had other ideas. She insisted on taking point while leaving the unconscious Barton to Ginny to carry. The only advantage to that was with Natasha’s attention often directed out, looking for threats, Ginny was able to subtly use a few spells to make moving Barton a bit easier. But even with those aids it still wasn’t easy getting him to medical.

Once they got there things didn’t go at all as Ginny expected. The priority of the Doctors wasn’t to treat Barton but to ensure he could hurt them or anyone else. They were shunted aside to a small room where Barton was strapped down and searched for any weapons they might have missed when disarming him. Only then did the Doctors give him a quick looking over after which he was declared stable and they simply… left. 

When she tried to stop them, demanding to know why they weren’t doing more, they brushed Ginny off while tersely explaining that they had more ‘pressing’ cases to see to.  This was hard for Ginny to wrap her head around but then they’d gone sealing her and Natasha in with Barton, and she’d looked out the small window to their room. She stood there for some time just watching what was happening out there. She took in the injured and bleeding and the Doctors who were trying their best for them.  In the magical world these problems would be nothing.  The healers would have flicked their wands at the cuts and broken bones to see them fixed in an instant.  They wouldn’t have to leave a man who’d suffered unknown traumas while under mind control. The longer she watched something like guilt crept in on her for the privileges she enjoyed as a witch.

Natasha though didn’t seem upset about it. Not Barton’s lack of care, or the abundance of injury outside their little alcove.  She accepted the Doctors’ leaving with ease while settling into the seat next to Clint to keep an eye on him while Ginny kept guard at the door.  

There hadn’t been any word from Ron since he’d said he would meet her in medical but Command had been coming over general channels updating them on all kinds of things and people were sharing their own news as well. Ginny tried her best to pay attention to everything but as she and Natasha made small talk somethings she missed. Natasha’s questions were generally focused on Buckler’s history with mind control. It was hard for Ginny to know what she could share in regard to her history and things in general with mind control and what help they might be able to give Barton.  At least she felt confident she could assure Natasha that they would be helping him.  Ginny may not have had confirmation of that yet, but she knew there wasn’t a chance Harriet would leave him to deal with what he’d been through with only muggle support.  Even if their compassion didn’t compel them to step in wanting to know about his experience with Loki and needing to study the magic that had been used to control him would see them stepping in.

When Ron finally did arrive took a moment for Ginny to make the connection that the scarred and bloodied figure was her brother.  Once she did panic jumped up her throat blocking her ability to breath.  The door between them was soundproof so she couldn’t hear what he was saying but she could see the distress in his expression as he spoke with the Shield members around him, including their Director Fury.  Behind him were few more of their people supporting a body on a stretcher between them.  Ginny’s confusion reared up as she took in the body.  It looked like a Shield Agent but the aura was all wrong.  Their was magic running through him, the appearance of life but he definitely wasn’t alive.  

It took her longer than it had to recognize Ron to understand what she was seeing and by then Natasha had come to stand next to her.

“Coulson,” she said sounding disbelieving.

A strike of shame hit Ginny as she knew whoever Coulson was he wasn’t out there.  That was a golem there to take his place.  He had almost certainly been taken in as a new asset, or he was dead. For Natasha’s sake Ginny hoped it was the first. Not that his being an asset was all that great of a fate either.  It wasn’t her department but in training Ginny learned about that side of what they did.  

The IWC worked hard to gain intel unobtrusively.  Seers were their first and main source for gaining information but when it came to acting on that information often times it was harder to accomplish what needed to be done as an outsider.  They tried but sometimes infiltration was called for.  In some cases they were able to place people under their Alter identities.  The original lot Council Woman Carter brought into Shield got their positions in this way.  They had Agents likewise set up in several magical and muggle organizations around the world.  This is what they preferred to do.  But it wasn’t all they did.

Sometimes rather than crafting a new identity and working to get their people into beneficial positions the ICW would steal the identity of a real person by using magic to take on their appearance and behaviors so one of their own could assume their life.  That person if still alive would then become an ‘Asset.’  Sort term assets were sometimes only with them long enough to be interrogated and their memories modified if necessary.  Longer term assets could be kept in IWC custody for hours, days, years, decades, presumably for the rest of their lives.  Most were kept sleeping during their stay but others lived out their time very much aware of what was happening.

Depending on how things went it could be that Natasha would never see the real Phil Coulson again.

Through the glass Ron met Ginny’s eye and signaled for her to come to him.

Placing her hand on Natasha’s shoulder Ginny assured, “I’ll try to find out what’s happening.”

Natasha give her a grateful smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.  Stepping back she made room for Ginny to leave.  Once the door was open the sound of shouted orders and running feet breached the silence.  Careful not to get in anyone’s way Ginny moved over to where Ron had set himself apart from everyone else.  When she was getting close he headed out into the hall obviously expecting her to follow.  He led them some distance away from medical before throwing up protections to keep them from getting eavesdropped on.  He’d just finished with the last when Ginny caught up to him.

Wasting no time in she asked, “What happened to the Director?”

Frowning at her Ron crossed his arms before answering bluntly, “Stabbed.”

Ginny sucked in a breath, “But her armor.”

The furrows created by Ron’s frown only deepened.  “Word went out over the coms three times warning everyone that Loki’s people are armed with both blades and bullets capable of piecing our armor.”

Fighting off a wince Ginny admitted, “I must have missed it.”

Her brother’s jaw flexed.  She could recognize that famous Weasley temper bubbly up even though he didn’t look at all like a Weasley with his alter in play.  “And when you realized you hadn’t been paying attention to your coms you didn’t think to ask for an update?  Or did you just not realize at all?”  
Feeling defensive Ginny crossed her arms to match her brother.  “There was a lot going on.  I was distracted.” 

“And that distraction could have gotten you killed,” he growled at her.

Ginny couldn’t deny that.  Swallowing down her doubts she spoke with confidence, “It won’t happen again.”

Not won over by her assurances Ron said gravely, “You can’t promise that.”

No, she supposed she couldn’t.  But, she could learn from her mistakes.  She would do better.  For now, she was done being distracted.  “How’s the Director?  And Cal? What happened to him?”

Slowly Ron let out his breath while he worked out how to tell her what he had to say.  When he found the words he explained, “Cal was shot by Barton and portkeyed out to Command.  He’s injured but its nothing they can’t take care of.  The Director… They don’t think it will prove fatal but beyond that we don’t know yet.”

It was hard for Ginny to wrap her mind around that.  Shaking her head slightly she asked, “What do you mean we don’t know?  We have to know.”  
Ron was back to frowning at her.

“We have some of the strongest Seers in the world working with us,” she pointed out.  “We have to know something!”

“But we don’t,” Ron told her.  “Magic is a lot of wonderful things but its also chaos.  Anything is possible.  No matter how certain a future may seem something can change it, but right now absolutely nothing is certain. Her her future is up in the air.  They don’t think she’s going to die. They do think she’s going to wake up but if she does they don’t know how long that will take and if their will be any permanent damage.”

The color had drained from Ginny’s face.  “What do you mean ‘if’ she wakes up?”

Ron blinked at her as he realized what he’d let slip.  Looking regretful he moved forward to wrap Ginny in a hug, offering her comfort which she eagerly took.  

“She went into a kind of healing coma,” Ron explained softly.  “To protect her while she’s sleeping her magic formed a kind of barrier around her.”

“I remember something about that,” Ginny said. “Something about freezing the body to preserve it?”

She could feel him nod. “I got an update on my way here. As much as it was done to save her it’s causing the healers trouble. To help move the healing along they’d need to break past her protections but if they try her magic will work to reinforce it.  If her magic is diverted to reinforcing the barrier it can’t deal with holding back the curse and the venom that was introduced to her system when she was attacked.  They are worried that by the time they broke through the barrier to help too much damage would be done.  They would need Harriet awake to control her magic and stop it fighting back but she won’t wake up till she’s more healed.  Since she won’t wake up, we’ve got to wait, and let her magic heal her one her own. Which could take a day, or longer. A lot longer.”

Ginny nodded into Ron’s chest even though she didn’t really understand what he was saying.  She knew what the words meant but she just couldn’t process the idea of it. It didn’t seem real.  Harriet…They’d seen her get hurt before.  For Merlin’s sake Ginny had seen her dying from the basilisk before Fawkes swooped in to put a stop to that, but their was always a Fawkes.  No matter what happened to her Harriet was always okay in the end.  Actually, she was usually okay in a matter of days with no scars for her trouble.  Only the Dark Lord ever been able to leave a lasting mark on her.  It didn’t seem possible that something could keep her down.  It didn’t seem possible that she might never wake up again.

“She’s going to be fine,” Ginny mumbled.

Pulling back Ron held her at arms length.  Looking into her eyes he made sure the magnitude of what he had to say would land before speaking. “If she wasn’t as strong as she is, she’d be dead right now.”

Ginny couldn’t breath.  

“If it had been you or me, we would have been dead before help could get there.  We would have been dead and there would have been nothing anyone could do about it.

All Ginny could do was stare at Ron who was staring back at her… She’d never asked about the scars he carried on his alter.  She’d always assumed he’d picked them to look cool.  Now she was wondering if he picked them to remind his trainees that having magic didn’t mean they would be safe.  It was something that he impressed on them through all of their training.  It was something her family had been trying to stress to get her to change her mind when she’d joined up and requested to be a Field Agent.  Ginny had gone into this knowing she could die and thinking she understood the reality of the work.  Knowing it as an abstract idea, and feeling it in her bones were very different things.

“What do we do now,” she asked, needing to focus on the doing.

Ron’s expression became more business like as he let her go.  “For now I’m in charge but I can’t imagine it will be long before Cal usurps authority from me as the Director’s official second.  Until that happens, we’ve got a lot of uncertainty and not much concrete to act on.  Loki’s out. We’re following him but given his reputation who knows if we’re actually following him or an illusion  Even if we are he doesn’t have the Tesseract.  Its who knows where being prepared to open the way for an army.  We don’t know when.  We don’t know where.  But we’re going to do what we can.”

Ginny stood straighter, ready to receive her orders and do her part. “What do we do?”

“A select few will be remaining behind here once we’ve got things settled but the rest of us will be falling back to command to regroup, rest up, and do our best to be ready.”

Ginny deflated some.  “That’s it?”

“There isn’t much more we can do without risking we put ourselves in a worse position for what’s coming,” Ron said sounding resigned and defensive both.

“What about Agent Barton?”

“There is a staging team in the wings waiting to bring him in. We’ll see what we can learn from him the same as the others who were under Loki’s control but if he’s as smart as we’ve been led to believe then Loki didn’t send anyone as part of his rescue who knew anything of importance.”

“If you don’t expect to get anything out of him do we really have to bring Barton in,” Ginny jumped to asked.

Ron frowned at her.  “If there’s even chance someone knows something we have to.”

“Sir,” Ginny said hoping that by being professional it would help her case in persuading Ron.  “Agent Barton’s mind has already been through a trauma.  Subjecting him to a second kidnapping may compound that.  He’s not a criminal.  He’s one of Shield’s best and he was put up to be joining the Avengers.  He has the potential to be a force for good in the world.  Can we really in good conscious risk putting him through more when we don’t have to?”

Her words were met with a mighty scowl.

Ginny was tempted to go on talking but knowing that she’d likely devolve into a rant she bit her tongue.

Ron only scowled harder at her composure.  “You sound like the Director,” he admitted.

Smiling, Ginny couldn’t help the sadness that leaked into it at the mention of Harriet.  “That’s what I was going for.”

Looking past her and down the hall Ron’s eyes became distant.

Trying not to fidget Ginny went back to biting her tongue as she didn’t want to ruin her chances with babble.

Focusing back in on her Ron declared, “He’s your responsibility.  You stick with him.  You do not leave his side.”

Fighting not to smile at her victory Ginny assured, “Yes Sir.”

Ron rolled his eyes.  “I’ll have the healers come here to check him out.  When they are here you abide by what they say.  Ultimately it will be up to them if he stays or goes.”

“Understood.”

“Just don’t forget,” he warned her looking severe, “they are spies.” 

“Sir,” Ginny asked confused.

“Agent Barton.  Agent Romanoff.  Everyone on this ship.  They are spies.  Their job is to manipulate and extract information.  Even if you think you aren’t giving them anything you probably are. Even if you think you’re making a friend you have no way of knowing if its genuine.”

Ginny made to roll her eyes but reaching out Ron caught her chin forcing her to look at him.

“I’m serious.  I’m not saying this as family.  I’m saying it as your superior.  You treat them as the enemy.  You watch what you say and you watch your back.  You don’t volunteer information.  You don’t make conversation unless its something you have to say.  Do you understand?”

“What is this about? Is it what you said about some of Shield being compromised?”

Rather than answering he repeated himself.  “Do.  You.  Understand?”

Reaching up Ginny knocked his hand away.   With a hint of exasperation she answered, “Yes.”   
Crossing his arms again Ron leveled her with a hard look.  “Try that again.”  
Had he been her big brother Ron in that moment Ginny would like to think he wouldn’t have intimidate her.  But in his guise of Lance, one of the most respected Commanders in the IWC, it was a different story. 

Cowed Ginny replied, “Yes Sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are what keep me writing.


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